


Unexpected Spirit

by peculiarDreamer



Series: Spirit and Devotion [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Colemance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Sex, Evolving Tags, F/M, Fluff, Human Cole, I need closure, Only Subtle Cassandra/Varric, Romance, Slow Burn, Violence, Wolf fallout
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-03-31 08:18:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 65,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3970708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peculiarDreamer/pseuds/peculiarDreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ellana Lavellan is drained from the constant stress and demands placed on the Inquisitor and broken by the loss of Solas.  She is not alone, though, and she begins to find solace in someone she never expected, and that both thrills and terrifies her.</p><p>I own nothing of the Dragon Age universe nor its characters. The only things I can claim here are my own heartbreak and this imagining of what comes next for those characters.  Thanks to the Bioware team for giving life to such amazing people and alternate realities; I am eternally grateful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Escape

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic. I had never even read any fancfiction until Dragon Age: Inquisition arrived and I had my heart permanently extracted by one irresistible, bald elf. So I decided to write this as a way of moving forward. Admittedly, I like my fictional men a bit dark and dangerous, so if you have an image of Cole as an entirely pure, spotless-white-hat-wearing innocent, this might not be the fic for you. I like his good intentions AND his deadly abilities. If you do too, then this might be something for you. I plan to post a new chapter at least once a week. I have a rough idea of how this will go, but I'm uncertain about the length at this point. Thanks for taking the time to read my coping mechanism. :) Comments are welcome.

Ellana inhaled the combination of musk and fine dust that puffed from beneath the saddle as she situated it atop her red hart. He was a regal vision, majestic horns curling toward the sky as he nodded his approval of their impending journey. She cooed to him as she worked. Soft-hearted as ever, she loved him the moment she set her eyes on him. For all the decisiveness she had shown in the face of one impossible situation after another as Inquisitor, she was still just a tender-spirited girl with more talent than wisdom and more heart than sense. Apparently, saving the world from aspiring darkspawn magister gods didn't do much to alter who you are at the core. Which was why she needed this trip.

“I do not believe this is wise, my friend. You have not been yourself since... since we defeated Corypheus.” Cassandra stumbled slightly over the truth, which was that Ellana had not been herself since  _Solas left_ . Her relationship with Solas had never been much more than scholarly debate, an incredible amount of pining on her side, a few blissful, unexpected kisses, and that beautiful and terrible meeting when he liberated her from her vallaslin then immediately liberated her heart from her chest... only to disappear shortly after. She thought it had been a private pain, but her companions paid close attention. And she wasn't exactly adept at hiding her feelings.

“Allow us to join you, at least a few of us. Simply because this crisis has been resolved, that does not mean that you are not needed. You place yourself in needless danger.” Cassandra wrung her hands before her as she spoke, a nervous tick that Ellana found utterly endearing.

Ellana finished tightening and buckling the cinch, pulled one unruly strand of long hair behind her elongated ear and turned toward the growing crowd of people before the stables. “I know, Cass, but -”

“But nothing, darling,” Vivienne chimed in, her nose scrunched in distaste at the smell of the stable, “the seeker is correct; you take far too great a risk wandering off alone like some homeless waif. A lone mage is an easy target...” Vivienne's sharp eyes swept over Cole, who hovered just inside the barn, his gaze fixed on Ellana... “for many dangerous people and  _things_ . You are the crux of the power the Inquisition has garnered. It is foolishness to place yourself in danger and risk everything you have worked so hard to accomplish.” She had that disapproving expression on her face, the one she so often wore in public. Lifting one foot with a look and gesture that could only be described as elegant disgust, she added as an after thought, “and it seems I must burn my shoes as well, my dear. The things I endure for you.” Underneath the icy veneer, though, Ellana could feel Vivienne's concern. Few people knew Vivienne the way that Ellana did. Vivienne made certain of that.

Ellana tried again. “I understand and fully appreciate your point. Both of your points. But this is necessary. I wouldn't insist on it otherwise.” She hoped that would be the end of it. She was mistaken.

“I disagree.” Blackwall stalked out of the barn, stout and scowling, arms crossed over his barrel of a chest.

Ellana closed her eyes, leaned her forehead against her hart and let out a long, slow sigh.

“As do  _I_ ,” Cullen intoned, voice dripping with concern and something akin to shocked disbelief as he stalked toward her from the direction of his tower, Josephine following swiftly at his heels.

_Ah, Josie_ . That was the last time she shared her plans to abscond in broad daylight with her favorite diplomat. She had felt that  _someone_ should know where she was going and she knew that none of her companions would go along with her plan willingly. Although, how she thought she could simply ride through the front gates in broad daylight without someone noticing was beyond her now. But that was just it: she wasn't thinking. At least, not rationally. Not anymore. She  _must_ go. Next time, she would leave a note and abscond like a person with some sense: alone, in the middle of the night. It had worked for Blackwall. But the idea of worrying them, this amalgamation of odd companions that she now treasured… she felt compelled to tell on herself. She was silently thankful once again that she was a mage. She could never be a rogue. She had all the stealthiness and deceptive powers of a drunken gurn.

Cullen reached her in moments, grabbing her arm and ushering her away from the crowd. She gave no resistance, allowing her slight form to be dragged along by his unusually forceful and – in comparison to her arm – gigantic hand. Whatever fear or doubt he might have had concerning her being an apostate mage had long since been resolved. A little too well resolved, in fact. And while she liked and respected her commander – and found him attractive, certainly – she just could not reciprocate what he had shown so clearly to her and everyone else. And since Solas vanished, he had renewed his attentions with vigor. Never intrusive or aggressive, but rather a kindness and a hope that made her situation all the more unbearable. She knew he would be horrified to know she felt that way. That she felt guilt for not returning his feelings on top of mourning the loss of the only man she had ever loved in any romantic way. And so she looked at him now, with patience and regret, his strong brow furrowed in disapproval and worry as he stopped beside her near the stone wall.

“Cullen, I -” Ellana started, glancing over at a guilt-ridden Josephine fidgeting with the still-increasing crowd.

“No. If there is something you need to do, we will do it. You will have an accompaniment of guards or at the very least, you will take a small team with you. But you will not go off on your own without backup, without defense of any kind, without us having any location more specific than 'Crestwood'...” he trailed off, dragging one hand through his hair in a fit of frustration.

“I am hardly defenseless, after all I-”

“Perhaps you do not realize your own importance. No, of course you don't.” He repeated the frustrated gesture and she wondered that he had any hair left at all as often as he worried his hand through those thick locks. “There are almost certainly red templars still at large. There are other forces in the chantry, among the Orlesian nobles – hang it all – even the Qunari got assassins inside Skyhold after you chose the Chargers over the alliance!” His voice rang harsh with self-admonishment.

“Yes, but they were after Bull, and -”

“ _That time._ You are an  _elven_ _mage_ in a position of great political power. You are a walking target, even more so now that the breach and the threat of Corypheus have been dealt with. Don't you realize that your enemies will certainly consider you not only a threat, but also one that they are now free to remove since the mark you carry is no longer needed?” His voice, normally so even, was taking on a heat she had not experienced from him.

She felt like she was under attack. Again. When would it end? She just needed to get away before she – she swallowed and refocused. Cullen would understand if she could just explain it properly. The minuscule part of her that wasn't overwrought, that wasn't suffocating in a pit of despair, reminded her that his reaction was only severe because he was worried for her. She decided to try to reason with him again.

“You're right. I am a target, a political power... but who would suspect that a single traveler was that same power? It is the best way  _not_ to draw attention. And it will give me the space and time I need -”

“I will not allow it!” His voice rang against the walls of the keep and across the crowd, bringing a hush over the onlookers that had accumulated in front of the stables.

Ellana moved past a split second of shock, and then into anger. But she had never been able to maintain anger. She still couldn't. At least, not with someone who was acting out of concern. Over the past months it had taken everything she had in her to remain. To be the Inquisitor. If it had not been for Solas she would have disappeared from Haven the minute she had free reign, not because she didn't care, but because she cared  _too much_ . It was overwhelming. All of the people, all of the demands, all of the needs. She was empty. She had nothing left to give them. She started to panic, tears glistened at the corners of her eyes threatening to expose her for the desperate, weak elf she had always been right here in what should be her sanctuary.

“Burning. Black at the thought. Breaking inside for what you want and can't have. But you do not say. She is  _not_ _yours_ .”

Cole had materialized beside her, his shoulder wedged between her and Cullen, a whisper of air and shadow and he was there. His words rang low and menacing, a stark contrast to his usual innocent tone. It had only been a few short months since she and Solas had argued over her siding with Varric and allowing Cole to grow in his humanity. Many of the changes had been subtle shifts in attitude and speech patterns. He also lost his ability to make people forget. His lethality in combat, however, seemed to have changed not at all. Ellana could only see the side of his face, but what she could make out – the muscle moving in agitation in his firmly set jaw, the low angle of his head, hat shading his pale, otherworldly eyes – it was a stance she had witnessed countless times.

Right before Cole eviscerated someone.

His words hadn't even registered, but her alarm increased exponentially as she noted his pallid, slim fingers gripping his matching blades.

“What did you say?” Cullen's look would have cowed most men. But then, Cole wasn't  _exactly_ a man. Cullen's sword hummed as his hand began to pull it free of its sheath. The situation was quickly spiraling into a pit of unimaginable horror that she couldn't have begun to imagine when she woke that morning. She had to stop this. Now.

“No, Cole. It's alright -”

“It's not. He can't say. I won't let him.”

For a tenth of a second, Ellana wondered if she would ever get to complete a sentence again.

“Hey Kid, if I had known you would be sparring Curly this morning I would have sprung for a better venue. The kind with lots of ale and at least one redhead, right Bull?”

Ellana thanked the creators, the maker, the stone, and anything and anyone else for Varric. She exhaled as the charge in the atmosphere dissipated. She hadn't even noticed when Bull had come to stand beside her, and she jumped a little when he responded in kind to Varric's playful tone.

“No need, the Boss here is all the redhead I need.” He winked his one good eye at Ellana and she felt like she could climb him like a tree and kiss him.

“Really? I've always thought it was more brown than red.” Varric examined her long, spiraling curls with feigned seriousness and his eyes twinkled with mischief. She could have kissed him too.

“Clearly, this color-quandary calls for the discernment of a man with both impeccable taste and true hue-acuity. As I am that man and more, I declare our illustrious – albeit somewhat tiny – leader: a Chestnut Inquisitor. With shimmering copper highlights. There. Confusion resolved. You're welcome.” Dorian leaned casually against a nearby tree, smiling at her with warmth. Dorian probably wouldn't appreciate a kiss from her. Maybe an I-adore-you-to-pieces hug, then.

“Close enough, right Boss?” Bull nudged her gently on the shoulder. It always amazed her how someone so enormous could be so impossibly gentle.

“Bull, you know if you're happy, I'm happy.” Flirting with Bull was so easy, even she could do it.

Cullen stood quietly, looking appropriately abashed and the crowd began to mull away, whatever scandal that had been about to burst upon Skyhold's full-gallop gossip line being effectively blunted.

Cole returned his weapons to their home across his back, but refused to move away from her until Cullen stepped back, and then he only ghosted to stand directly behind her. But his face was impassive once more, a fact for which she was unspeakably thankful.

“So... seems like there might be an outing. I wouldn't mind stretching my legs a bit and Bianca has been all kinds of bored since Corypheus got up close and internal with a rift.” Varric smiled and waited for her to take his way out, which happened to be the  _only_ way out at this point.

“Ah, um, yes.” Ellana cleared her throat, banishing the tightness of her rampant emotions and anxiety. “Of course, you are right Cullen.” And, sweeping, her eyes toward where Cass, Viv, Blackwall, and Josie stood, she added, “you are all right.” She also noticed for the first time that Sera was perched on top of the stable, bow still in mid-draw and pointing in Cole's general direction. Without thinking, she moved between the weapon and Cole, just as he objected.

“But it isn't what you want. What you need -”

“Cole, it's alright. I want you to come with me. You and Varric and Bull. How does that sound? Will you come with me?” She placed a reassuring hand on his arm. She also reveled a bit in actually being allowed to complete a thought without being interrupted.

For a moment Cole stared at her with a strange intensity; she thought he must be weighing her thoughts, her needs. She made an effort to focus her mind on how desperately she needed to be away from there. That she needed him to say 'yes.'

“Yes.”

Ellana exhaled in relief. “Bull? Varric?”

“Ready when you are, Boss.”

“Let me just grab my girl. She's been dying to kill something evil.”

“I'm afraid Bianca might be a bit disappointed on this trip, but it's best to take precautions. Right, Cullen?” She turned her gaze on her commander, who was clearly feeling a great deal of guilt for his reaction earlier. She smiled at him, trying to communicate that all was forgiven and he stammered a bit and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yes, a small guard is best.” He half-turned to resume his ceaseless work, but then added in a heartfelt whisper. “Please, just… be careful.”

Ellana did her best to avoid the disappointed looks of the friends that she would leave behind this time as she returned to her hart. It was well past time to go and she was already going with three companions too many.


	2. Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to let go.

“Let me get this straight, Bolts: we are traipsing across the damp ass-end of civilization so that you can sit alone for a few days? In the middle of said damp ass?” Varric sounded more amused than irritated. Although, he was surely missing the bawdy comforts of The Hanged Man at that moment as they slowly made their way through the misting rain that seemed never to cease in Crestwood. She couldn't stop one corner of her mouth from rising at the odd nickname; it just made her sound so imposing. He had dubbed her with it on their first outing from Haven when she had incinerated an oversized bandit with strings of lightening.

Ellana waited for Cole to chime in with an innocent comment about civilization not having an ass, but he remained silent. As he had for the entirety of the trip. His uncharacteristic brooding was beginning to worry her. He seemed to alternate between drilling a hole in her skull with an intense stare that she could not read at all and glaring at the muddy ground. She knew that her pain had to be affecting him, so she did everything she could to reign in her emotions, to focus only on the good-natured banter between Bull and Varric. She thought she did a reasonably good job; there were even moments when she felt almost at ease. But apparently fooling herself was easier than fooling the spirit-turning-human who could delve into the core of her pain at will. At least, he seemed to still retain that ability.

“Sounds good to me, Boss. You've earned a break. Although, you might enjoy it a little more with the right company.” Bull's intentions weren't nearly as lascivious as he delighted in pretending. Almost immediately after their first meeting on the Storm Coast, she had begun to view Bull as a sort of enormous, doting brother. Well, minus the saucy insinuations, which they both knew he didn't mean. She would have to be a great deal more than merely introspective to have missed the looks between Bull and Dorian.

“Believe me Bull, right now, the _right_ company is _no_ company.” She gave him a tired smile and he relented.

As they approached the secluded area where they had slain a wyvern only a few months ago, and where she had thought she might die of grief more recently, she dismounted her hart and the others followed suit. The knot that had begun to twist in her stomach once the entrance to the secluded lagoon was within view had now worked it's way into her throat. The choking sensation brought water to her eyes. She had never been so grateful for the misty weather. She quietly cleared her throat, subduing the knot so that she could speak unhindered.

“Ok, so, this is the place. If you guys could just go to Caer Bronach, I'll be fine. You know right where I will be.” She knew it was an effort in futility, but she had to try.

“Yeah… why don't we just camp here at the entrance and let you have your quiet time alone inside. I'm pretty sure Curly's head would explode if we left you here alone. That would be… unpleasant.” Varric gave her an earnest, almost apologetic look that confirmed any argument would be useless.

“I'll just go in first and make sure there aren't any more wyverns hanging around before you go in and set up camp.” Bull unsheathed his gigantic blade and started into the cavernous entrance.

Ellana watched him grow slightly smaller as he approached the twin hart statues flanking the opening to the small oasis. When he became completely obscured by evening mist and distance, she turned her attention to Varric who had begun setting up camp a little to the side of the entrance. Cole moved in silent, seamless coordination with Varric, while the dwarf chided him good-naturedly about his uncharacteristic surliness. Ellana sighed, mentally resigning herself as she studied the brooding pout of Cole's mouth and inhuman, light blue eyes. She just didn't have the mental energy to try and help him right now. All she wanted, all she needed, was to get inside the sanctuary in front of her so that she could finally let go. She was so close now, she thought she might split apart from the tension of stifling her emotions.

“All clear, Boss. Want help setting up camp?” Bull lumbered back out of the dim haze of the rainy sunset, weapon sheathed.

She let out an audible sigh as she turned to face Bull with a shaky smile. “No. Thank you, Bull. I'll be fine.” She turned her head slightly to address Varric and Cole as well, the long, thick, damp spirals shifting sluggishly across her shoulders as she moved. “I'm not sure how long I will be...” she struggled to start, “but I'll be fine. Just… just give me some time.”

“Take your time, Bolts. I mean, who would be in a hurry to leave when the weather is so nice?” Varric's wink belied the bite of his words and she gave him a soft smile and nod of kinship before turning toward the entrance with her hart following suit, softly nuzzling her shoulder with his nose in a show of solidarity.

Ellana didn't look back. She didn't examine Cole's expression. She didn't give Bull her usual parting grin. She just moved, slowly and deliberately towards a memory. For a second she visualized herself as a zombie and was struck by how apt that would be, considering Crestwood's previous undead problem. “How appropriate” she mumbled to no one in particular and without any hint of mirth. Her mumbling was muffled by a clap of thunder that rebound over and over itself against the cavernous opening to the lagoon. She would have to be quiet, even though the interior was an open grotto, she wouldn't want the sounds of her mourning to reverberate back to her companions. She was once again thankful for the rain, which seemed to be picking up. She thought in passing that perhaps Dirthamen, knowing her bitter secret, was providing an appropriate scene.

She wondered what Solas would think of her silly, superstitious wondering.

Solas.

Tears blurred her vision as she stepped beneath the night sky again. She willed them back again as she went through the motions of setting up her small camp. _Not yet_ , she chided herself. She didn't bother tying her mount, knowing he wouldn't leave her, and he began to randomly graze. First she set up her small tent, laying rolls of dried leather on the interior floor to protect her from the cold damp ground. She then turned her attention to starting a small fire. Long, thin sticks slid into the ground like butter, supporting a large and fine tanned hide that worked to shield the pit from the bulk of the rain. Pulling the dry tinder from her pack she flicked her wrist and watched the flames roll from her fingertips to light her small, bright beacon amid the damp dark. She couldn't eat, so she placed her pack in the refuge of her tent and shirked off her armor.

This was it. She was finally here. She was alone. Unshackled by demands and duty. Just her, unarmored in the place she lost what was most important to her. And finally, two weeks after defeating Corypheus, two long weeks after seeing Solas for the last time, she gave herself permission to cry.

Nothing happened. She stood there in torment, drained and miserable, willing the liquid pain that she had beaten back for so long to spill forth now that she had sanctuary. All the pain of the events surrounding the conclave, surviving haven, struggling against one force after another, losing so many people, losing Solas... now, finally, she was free to grieve. And still, nothing. Ellana looked at the sky and allowed nature to provide what she could not provide for herself. Rain drops stung her eyes and cheeks, dancing down her face. She barely felt it. She barely felt anything.

She began to disrobe, moving automatically; she had no conscious will of her own anymore. She didn't know if she planned to bathe or drown. She wondered idly, detached, if it would even be possible to drown in such a shallow body of water. Her hands moved with steady, mechanical efficiency, her face placid. Her under-tunic hit the wet ground, followed by her foot-wraps and leggings. When the cool twilight rain and sluggish wind kissed every inch of her unhindered, she placed one foot in front of the other as she moved into the small pond toward the slender waterfall opposite her. As she walked, she felt that she was someone else, watching. She passed herself seated, Solas' hands hovering over her face, his dark-water eyes watching her with intensity. She heard his rich, lilting voice tell her “you are free.” The familiar, stabbing pain in her chest returned.

She didn't want to be free. She didn't want any of this. Cool water lapped at her knees, her small hands clenched into fists, the short nails digging into the numbness of her skin. Something like a choking moan escaped her mouth, and she felt she was screaming, though no other sound emanated from her. The tears she couldn't find just moments before rushed back to her in a torrent of unspent misery, streaming from her in waves to flow down in hot rivulets around her silent, open mouth. She couldn't breathe and her body slouched forward instinctively, arms coming up to meet in front of her, pressing against the pain in her chest and lodging her white-knuckled fists firmly beneath her chin. She didn't think she would ever breathe again and, at that moment, she didn't care.

Ellana, hopelessly lost in her suffering, didn't notice when the water rippled out from some new intrusion behind her. She didn't react when arms in soaked leather and piecemeal wool encircled her, pressing her bare back against an array of hard buckles and pockets bulging with sheathed blades. And when the familiar blond head lowered to press its angular cheek solidly against her sodden hair, perpetually pouting lips releasing soft breaths against the tip of her right ear, she was unable to notice any intrusion. She felt no shame at her nakedness or her loss of self-control. She barely knew that she was no longer alone. Shielded by the oversized brim of a well-worn hat, the only water that found her face now came from her own eyes. Ellana stayed that way, she wasn't sure for how long, naked and broken and barely aware that a world outside of her pain existed, encased in gentle, deadly arms. She had gone so long without inhaling that dark spots began to creep around the edges of her vision, dimming the already soft light of a rain-obscured, reflected moon.

“Pain, broken, bound. So bright and sharp it breaks through your light. You have to _breathe_.” Cole's voice was unusually low and raw, flowing from his close lips into her ear, anchoring her back in reality.

As ordered, Ellana drew in a desperate breath and poured it out again in shaking sobs and the months of struggle and pain poured from her, wracking her small form in violent shaking. She stayed that way, she didn't know for how long, supported only by the close, quiet, unexpected and undemanding embrace of Cole.

* * *

 

[Lacewing](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lacewing/pseuds/lacewing) created this lovely artwork for this scene and she was gracious enough to allow me to add it! I think this captures the emotion of the scene with perfection! *tries to stifle another delighted squeal*

You can follow her here: [Lacy's Random Ship of Dreams](http://lacyazlin.tumblr.com/post/123796380003/http-archiveofourown-org-works-3970708-chapters-8)


	3. Ripped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are not what Ellana anticipated.

The rain was a fine, barely visible mist and the moon a full orb glowing in the night sky, it's twin shining just as brightly near her shivering knees when Ellana slowly returned to her senses. She began to feel again – the painful swelling of her eyes, the chills that swept her arms and stomach in the progressively cooling night air, the raw indentations where Cole's armor buckles pressed into her delicate skin.

_Cole_. At that moment, she had never been more grateful for anyone. She had made many friends, but none that she truly allowed to see the depth of her. Not even Solas. She might have, if he had allowed her to. But he hadn't. Cole had, even if it was not what she intended. She felt sore everywhere, but light. Lighter and freer than she had felt since before she received her mark. In truth, more than she had ever felt in her life.

“I am glad. I wanted to help. I wasn't sure how… it's harder now to know how.” Cole's arms tightened again, reflexively, almost possessively, as he spoke.

“Thank you,” Ellana managed, a whisper from her raw throat. “Are you reading my thoughts? I thought I was too bright?” She shifted her body slightly to move away from the sting of the buckles and relieve the stiffness that had settled into her limbs. Cole obliged her by slowly releasing her, and as she took a small step forward, she could feel his eyes on her. She suddenly wished her almost waist length and heavy hair hung a foot or two longer. Her sense of modesty was rapidly returning along with her ability to feel physical sensations. Like the heat that was beginning to flush her delicate cheek bones.

“Yes. It's hard to hear you. Only when you are very loud and I am very close. I -” A horrified gasp emanated from Cole as she felt his hot fingertips graze one of the stinging impressions left by his buckles at the base of her spine. “I _hurt_ you.” His raspy tone was filled with horror. Then he began a crescendo of murmuring as his fingers continued to softly stroke the chafed flesh. “Soft, supple, smooth like silk, marred from my marking. I'm so sorry. I'm so -”

“Cole,” Ellana swallowed her growing embarrassment and spoke to him in a soothing tone, “you didn't hurt me. You helped me. Truly. Those marks will be gone in moments and they don't hurt.” That was quickly becoming the truth, anyway.

“But they are so _red_. Angry and burning against the bright. My fault...” She didn't know what was more disturbing, his grief at having caused her such minor discomfort or the distracting, unfamiliar tingling heat spreading out from where his deft fingertips caressed her bare skin like whispers of smoke.

She decided the best route was to remove the offensive marks from his sight, which meant turning around. Ellana had never exposed herself. Ever. To anyone. Even as a young child she would wander away from the other women in the clan to bathe in privacy, shielded by thick undergrowth or a rock outcropping. She wasn't entirely sure why; it was simply who she was.

But Cole was a spirit, she reasoned. Sort of. He had observed every degree of nudity and explicit acts for an eternity, both real and imagined, and yet had expressed no interest in the carnal – even though he now had the body of a young man very near in age to her. After all, he actually told Solas right in front of her that he had felt no sexual desire since manifesting as human. And despite Bull's investing in a physical education for Cole with Candy, Cole had spent the evening with the prostitute healing her emotional pain rather than learning any lessons in human sexuality. So, really, it would be no different than exposing herself to the rain, the wind or the moon. Cole: a libidinously indifferent force of nature.

That is, if the moon could mourn accidentally squeezing someone too tightly or the rain could fillet a man who threatened her into tiny bits of goo within seconds.

Ellana sighed, annoyed at herself for standing there pursuing circular arguments about the nature of spirits and humility while Cole's mumbling became increasingly distraught. He was now using both hands, with greater pressure, in an attempt to heal the damage. She had to stop those hands.

Without allowing herself any more time to think, she crossed her arms over her breasts, covering herself as much as she could and swished around in the knee-deep water to face him.

Her unexpected move must have startled him, because he stopped abruptly, suddenly silent, his hands frozen and barely touching her hip bones. His uniquely sculpted mouth was slightly agape and his eyes, that looked more gray than the normal bright, almost silvery blue, held something new. Those large, darkened orbs moved up her form finally fixing on her own large eyes for a few seconds, only to settle back on her mouth, unwavering.

Ellana felt her face might erupt in actual fire at any moment.

“Cole? Cole...” she licked her lips that had suddenly dried up like she'd spent a week in the Hissing Wastes. She heard him draw in a sharp breath, his eyes never leaving her mouth, hands tightening slightly on her exposed hip bones. At least he seemed to have forgotten about the marks on her backside. Though, she was becoming fairly certain that the current situation was not an improvement. Ellana found a buckle on his armor directly in front of her to focus her gaze on and willed the heat spreading down her neck to stop, all the while distracted by the strange nearness of Cole. So much for her “indomitable focus.”

“Why?” The confusion in Cole's voice surprised her. She looked up to find the strange, large eyes staring at her own beneath a furrowed, intense blonde brow and through a slightly shifting curtain of almost colorless blonde locks.

“Why...” That's all that she seemed able to get out. Oh yeah. That was her. Indomitable.

Cole shook his head slightly, searching for the right words, squeezing his eyes shut for a second and reopening them, his nimble hands still fixed solidly at her hips. “He's there. I can see me there too – in others but not in me. Strong, smiling, helping, holding and then gone. He ripped a hole where he was and went away… _why_? How could he _do_ that?”

“Oh,” Ellana's eyes returned to the buckle, as she recalled when she happened upon Cole the day after the final battle with Corypheus, the day after Solas disappeared. She was instantly back in that moment. She knew that the words belonged to Solas immediately, she would recognize his inflections anywhere, no matter whose voice they were disguised in. She felt herself nearing tears again. Solas had made Cole forget and condemned himself to a life of solitude for reasons she couldn't begin to imagine. He hadn't trusted her with his secrets, hadn't shared anything of himself with her, she realized.

She wasn't the only one Solas had pushed away. She knew Solas was powerful, but to make Cole forget him… she wondered maybe for the hundredth time who Solas _really_ was. She tried to comfort Cole as she stared unseeing at the unremarkable buckle and strap of his armor, “It must be difficult to see yourself with someone in others and not have those memories of your own, to have someone who was a friend – a friend you can't even remember now – take away a part of you. Of course you wonder why. So do I. But I believe that if Solas thought it was necessary, then it must have been. I believe he is a good person...” her voice trailed off. Even if it was true, it was still difficult to talk about.

“No. He is _not_ good.” The uncharacteristically sharp ring of Cole's words snapped her eyes back to his and sent a chill down her spine that had nothing to do with the rainy, cool weather. The surprise of it slackened her jaw, her mouth slightly agape, as she stared into the shadowy depths of those suddenly livid, lightest-blue-gray eyes. “Lingering looks and light touches. 'We shouldn't. It isn't right, not even here.' He _knew_. Hovering, wanting, making you want too. He made you love him and then he ripped it away. Hollow hurt where your heart was.” His voice lowered to a menacing degree and the hairs at the nape of her neck began to crawl. “He _hurt_ you. I won't forget _that_.”

Ellana found that her voice had completely abandoned her and her brain was squirming uncomfortably with the implications of Cole's words. His quoting Solas – he must have taken that from her thoughts earlier. It would have made her angry if she weren't so shocked by… whatever was happening with Cole. She had just assumed he was talking about his own loss… she had no idea. And his demeanor. She had to be wrong. This was some sort of misunderstanding. This is _Cole_. She just couldn't wrap her brain around it. She stood there like an imbecile, lips parted, eyes wide with surprise, staring at Cole's serious expression as if he had suddenly sprouted qunari horns. Actually, that might have been easier to comprehend. After all, she had witnessed some pretty insane shit over the last few months. But this. This sounded like he felt... No. From Cole? Impossible.

Cole's expression shifted, the strain in his face transforming slightly as his eyes moved back to her barely open mouth. His palms squeezed her bare hips firmly before releasing them to reach up and touch each side of her face, his fingers sliding lightly along her jawline and across her bottom lip to then settle gently against her cheeks, his eyes never leaving her mouth. She could hear herself hyperventilating, sucking in quick, shallow breaths like she had when she'd accidentally woken the Highland Ravager. But Cole was no dragon.

At that moment, he was much, much more terrifying.

Ellana swallowed and wondered if her face was going to burn a hole into his pallid palms. She had to do something. She had no idea how the entire world had just gotten turned on its head – again – but she had to stop this insanity now.

“Cole, I am getting pretty cold here. I think I need to get my clothes. OK?”

_Liar_. She didn't feel cold _at all_.

Cole blinked and looked a bit confused for a moment, like he was just waking up. “Yes,” he intoned in a clipped, tight voice and then vanished into a puff of sooty shadows.

Just like that, she was alone again. She felt a strange disappointment, which she completely refused to examine, and instead focused on getting back to the embers of her fire, making long sloshing strides through the shallow water. She snatched up her tunic, leggings and footwraps from the wet bank in stride and laid them beside the fire to dry. She wasted no time gathering an alternate set of under-armor clothes from her pack inside the tent and was certain she set some new record for fastest dressing time in the history of Thedas. Her cheeks still burned, despite having spent so much time in the rainy night. She summoned her will and a thin frost covered her small hands, which she immediately pressed into her burning cheeks and let out a low grumbling sound.

She was baffled. Completely and utterly bemused. By Cole's strange behavior. By her own.

As she sat inside her small tent, she found, to her surprise, that she was thankful for the strange turn of events. It was difficult to mourn the loss of Solas, or focus on the repeated pains of recent life, when she had just essentially stripped for a part-spirit-part-human-virgin. Not to mention said spirit-human's bizarre words and reactions. Ellana refreshed the icy coating on her hands, buried her face in both palms and let out another muted, frustrated moan.

Seconds later, she snapped her head up and shook it quickly to shake off the entire line of thought. Time to think rationally.

So, Ellana did what she did best: debate with herself.

For starters, she thought, Cole is a spirit-of-compassion-turning-human. And he was her friend. Of course he wouldn't understand all the appropriate ways of expressing that concern. There wasn't anything sexual in his words or behaviors, he was just new to expressing things as a human. And she has been riding an emotional whirlwind and is not at her best when it comes to judging the intentions and actions of others right now. There. Settled. He hadn't meant anything other than that he was concerned for his friend.

As for the nakedness – because she was beginning to feel like some sort of temptress leading an innocent astray – from what information she had, Cole was about two years older than her physically, as she was mere days into eighteen when she was sent to the conclave by Keeper Deshanna. And, spirit-wise, Cole might be _millennia_ older than her. She refused to feel guilty for inadvertently flashing someone who was very possibly thousands of years her senior. _And_ she hadn't even known he was there when she undressed.

All it boiled down to was a very dear friend consoling her at a time when she desperately needed consoling. End of internal debate. She refused to allow herself a rebuttal tonight.

Lifting her long hair above her head, Ellana flopped her throbbing skull down onto her makeshift bed and let loose a long sigh of contented resolution. She thought of how he helped her. She felt the lightness of her being again, the weight of her grief lifted from crippling to manageable, with his help. After all, wasn't that his purpose? She needed help and he helped. Her face softened with a peaceful half-smile, eyelids lazy with months of fatigue and radically shifting emotions. He had saved her in battle countless times. Now he had saved her in life. She didn't care what he was or who he was or what he had done; she was eternally in his debt – her lethal, compassionate Cole. She drifted off into her first deep slumber since early childhood.

That night she didn't search the fade for Solas as she had every night since defeating Corypheus. She didn't have nightmares. She didn't dream at all. She merely floated softly into an empty abyss, swollen eyes relieved to close, the encompassing darkness inciting images of a flaxen-haired, spectral rogue before she found the bliss of nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure most of you get the "indomitable focus" reference, but if not it is something Solas tells a mage Lavellan during flirtation.  
> Lavellan: Indomitable focus?  
> Solas: Presumably. I have yet to see it dominated. I imagine that the sight would be…fascinating.
> 
> Things to come: battles with assassins, strategic proposals, deadly plots and a fade visitation.  
> Also, I am terrible at naming things.


	4. Live

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana finds the will to move on, but it might be a bit late.

Ellana woke to the sound of a distant thunder clap. Rolling to one side, stiff from sleeping on the ground, she rubbed sleep and salt from her sore, but no longer puffy, lids and inhaled the scent of grass and rain and dirt. Stretching as she rose, she felt rested for the first time in ages, but her mind wandered, as it did first thing every morning, to Solas. To his long slender fingers, the lightly freckled, slight turn of his nose, his full lips, the rich tone of his voice… and it hurt, just as it did every morning since he had pushed her away. But this morning it hurt a little less, and instead of being overwhelmed by pain and loss, she felt a low ache that she shoved aside. She had other things to think about. There was still so much work to do at Skyhold: diplomats to meet, letters to write and review, plans to make for the still-increasing army and resources at her command. For the first time in over a month, she felt she was ready to take them on. She could no longer allow her personal life to distract her from her duty.

It took her mere minutes to gather up and pack away the contents of her hastily prepared camp. The sun was low in the drizzling sky. She must have slept for at least a dozen hours, she mused, as she casually stroked the side of her hart with one hand, using the other to cinch an overstuffed saddle bag. Her thick hair was still damp thanks to the persistent humidity that permeated every inch of this region of Ferelden. She thoughtlessly twisted the lengthy spirals into a large knot at the base of her skull while she surveyed the beautiful open cave one last time. She allowed herself to remember the feel of Solas' last embrace for only a moment.

“Goodbye.”

 _Time to move_. With that thought, she turned with her hart at her heels and headed toward the camp her companions had set.

She hadn't quite made it to the opening of the enclosed, cavernous exit when she was met by the familiar sight of Varric, abundant chest hair exposed and Bianca in her customary position of honor.

“Bolts! What are you doing heading this way? I expected to find you mid-frolick, naked in the rain.” Varric gave her a familiar wink and grin as he met her and turned to retrace his steps and accompany her out of the cavern.

“You know us elves, Varric, frolicking is our specialty. We are remarkably efficient at it. I finished my obligatory frolicking before mid-morning, leaving me plenty of time to weave flowers into my hair and accomplish my daily quota of tree-hugging before it was even noon,” Ellana quipped, feeling more like herself than she had in months. Still, she couldn't quite hide the blood that rose to her cheeks at Varric's use of “naked.”

“Well, far be it from me to doubt your elfy, frolicking prowess… but did it involve heavy drinking? Because I think those flowers might have been imaginary.” Varric raised one sandy, red-tinged brow as he eyed her unadorned hair pointedly, face fixed in an expression of feigned incredulity. He pretended not to notice her blush, and she loved him for it. The last thing she wanted to do was try to explain to someone what had transpired last night.

“Oh, no, they were real enough. It's just that when I happened to notice my favorite dwarf heading my direction after I had _very specifically_ asked not to be disturbed… well, the shock went through me, literally, and incinerated my flowers.” Ellana let tiny bolts of lightning play across her skin and added in mock petulance, “I am really disappointed. They were quite lovely.”

“Whoa, Bolts.” Varric raised both hands as if warding off something sinister, but he couldn't quite stifle his grin. “No need to get all touchy. And careful where you fling that stuff. Do you have any idea what singed chest hair smells like? Trust me, that shit could topple a giant.” He squished up his nose at the thought and Ellana let out a soft giggle.

“I'll keep that in mind the next time we're wading through giants in the Emerald Graves… so, what's up Varric? You wouldn't have come for me if it wasn't something important. Any more ancient magisters with dreams of world domination that I need to know about?” They had just about reached the end of the cave.

“Andraste's ass, I hope not. I mean, shit, how far away from the deep roads does a dwarf have to go to get away from darkspawn?” Varric shook his head and his grin was replaced by something more somber. “A scout came from Caer Bronach about an hour ago. Seems one of the locals reported seeing some strange red ore in a cave a little southeast of here. I thought you'd want to know.” Varric lifted his gaze to where Bull and Cole where waiting and her eyes followed. Bull gave her a grin and a nod and Cole stared at her with his usual, open intensity. She found that look a little disturbing after the events of the prior evening, but not nearly as disturbing as Varric's words.

“More red lyrium,” Ellana rubbed one small hand across her face and sighed as she approached Bull who had just tucked away the last of his belongings in a small pack.

“Yep, it's the evil gift that just keeps on giving.” There wasn't any real mirth behind Varric's words and she knew he felt like she did. Trying to squelch the propagation of red lyrium was like trying to swat down flies around a rotting corpse – for every one you hit, ten more take its place.

 _Now that's a cheerful image,_ she thought and turned her attention back to Varric. “You were right, this can't wait. The locals who found it didn't go near it?”

“They said they came straight to report it. Our agents have done a pretty good job of putting out the word to stay away from the stuff. Not that anyone should really need that warning after seeing what it did to the templars.” Varric's mood had soured, the way it always did when the subject turned to red lyrium. No matter how often she reassured him, she didn't think he would ever truly stop blaming himself for unearthing that first red lyrium idol, or the horrific events that followed.

“Alright, that's good at least. Do we have a mapped location?” It was surprisingly easy for Ellana to slip back into her inquisitorial role.

“Sure do, Boss – scout left it with us. We're ready to pummel evil magic crystals into dust whenever you are.” Bull was already atop his hart. It was a beautiful rainbow of hues and it had the distinction of being the largest animal in their stables. Considering Bull's size, it was the only real option for him, but the two had taken to each other well enough. Crush, as Bull had named him, enjoyed kicking things as much as Bull enjoyed hitting them.

“Then let's get going, the longer that stuff is there, the greater the chance that someone will be exposed to it.” Ellana examined the rudimentary local map that Bull handed her. “Looks like we can be there in a couple of hours if we leave now. Maybe we can get this handled before the sun goes down.”

“Wait. The sun is out? What with the constant rain I couldn't tell. Maybe the next time you need a night to yourself, Bolts, you can try out a nice apartment in Val Royeaux. That way, maybe when the crystals of perpetual evil pop up, they might emerge in some non-miserable place, you know, like a tavern.” And Varric bounced back. He was amazingly resilient that way. She new as long as he was complaining about the misery that was the lack of civilization in Ferelden there was hope for Thedas.

“Or better yet, a nice, upscale pleasure house filled with redheads… mmm, _redheads_.” Bull's one good eye was already ravaging some imaginary, buxom wench with fiery hair.

“Really, Bull? You wound me,” Ellana said, mounting her hart and heading off in the direction of the small “x” marked on the map that now resided in her belt. Varric mounted his sturdy pony and pulled up beside her, followed by Cole on his sleek gelding that was as dark as he was fair.

“What? _Red_ lyrium, _red_ heads. It's a theme.” Bull fell in behind her, sitting considerably higher than her on Crush's massive back.

“Wasn't it just a couple of days ago that I was “the only redhead you needed?” Ellana tried to feign heartbreak. Considering how truly heartbroken she had been in the past weeks, she found it surprisingly difficult to accomplish.

“Boss, I had no idea that you wanted to ride The Bull. Arrangements can be made, hell, why don't you and I head back into that nice little area you spent the night in and I can show you how to really unwind.” Bull was looking at her like she was some sort of Orlesian pastry. Then, for added effect, he turned and rustled around in his satchel mumbling, “I know I have those leather ties in here somewhere.”

Ellana could feel her face practically frying from the heat. She should have known better than to start something with Bull. She'd walked right into this one.

“Dorian wouldn't like that.” It was Cole who spoke, using the same foreboding tone he would have used to say “you're going to wake the high dragon.” It was strangely clear from the intense look on his face that Dorian wouldn't be the only one displeased. It made her think of that same face mere inches from hers the night before and her already reddened skin turned a few shades redder. Considering how pale her skin was to start with, she imagined she looked like an elf-shaped torch amid the rain.

“Nah, don't you worry, Cole, Dorian is a flexible guy. Hey, there's an idea, maybe he could join us. What do you think, Boss?” Bull didn't miss a beat.

Ellana made a strangling sound and felt the heat spread straight to the tips of her elongated ears. “Ok, Bull, you win! Let's change the subject before I burst into flames right here.” Ellana faced straight forward, eyes locked on the road ahead of her as the four of them moved forward through the ever-present, misting rain, Bull and Varric chuckling as they went.

“You're just _too_ easy, Boss.” And with that, Bull showed mercy and started asking Varric about when he planned to return to Kirkwall. She didn't like to think about the subject of Varric leaving either, but at least it wouldn't make her spontaneously combust.

An hour and a half later, Ellana's warm, snoufleur skin and shimmering red highever weave enchanter's coat was splattered in mud up to her waist. The rain had finally stopped, and the waning sunlight was making a desperate attempt to nourish waterlogged plants between charcoal and samite-cloth-colored clouds. Several crows circled beneath the clouds nearby, their ebony wings flashing in stray rays of light. She didn't want to think about what sort of corpse had attracted them. She was really tired of corpses.

They were riding in a comfortable silence and as she surveyed the landscape for the rock formation that would mark the final approach to their destination. She couldn't help but think about how much she was going to miss this. She had grown to love her companions and very soon, Varric would go home to Kirkwall, Vivienne would spend most of her time in Val Royeaux, Cassandra would be focused on rebuilding the Seekers, and Leliana would likely be leaving any day now to take her place as the new Divine. Solas was already gone forever. After having accomplished so much, she couldn't help but feel that she had saved everyone only to lose them.

She was grateful at least that the others didn't seem to have any plans to abandon her. She silently admonished herself for her selfishness. It isn't abandonment – life continues, and they have to live theirs. And so does she.

A large crow flew low overhead and landed on the strange stone formation that emerged on her right, a silently screaming face carved into it ages ago. She thought she knew how it felt. “Ok, we should be near the cave entrance, keep an eye out for the trail that leads to the right.”

“There,” said Cole immediately, and the group veered off the main road to follow a thin, winding path to a low outcropping of rock that shielded a cave opening just large enough for Bull to squeeze into.

Ellana immediately sensed that something was amiss. “Whoa,” she said in a low voice to her hart and everyone came to a halt in unison about twenty feet in front of the cave.

“Just once, could we go some place that's _not_ creepy?” Varric kept his voice low, Bianca already loaded and grasped in both hands.

Three more crows hopped along the ground in front of the cave. Ellana's skin began to crawl and she reached for her staff.

“Two, maybe three up on the ledge. Archers, maybe mages.” Bull's voice was barely a whisper as his Ben-Hassrath training kicked in and he eased down off of his mount. In a louder voice he added in a casual tone, “we should have some food before we go in, Boss.”

Ellana, Varric and Cole followed Bull's lead, using their mounts to help shield them from view.

Then Cole's head turned sharply toward the black pit of the cave, as though straining to listen. “So cold, wet. It's so dark. Where am I? I'm so scared, Papa. I can't move! Papa please, help!” Cole's voice rang with the fearful intonation of a child as he read the thoughts coming from someone inside the cave. He turned his large, icy blue eyes to look at Ellana. “Beaten and bound in the dirt, dark and dank. The hurt is covered, tied taught, muffled so no one will hear.” His tone changed to determination. “We have to help them.” He wasn't asking. He didn't have to.

It wouldn't be the first trap she walked right into.

Ellana nodded to Bull and Varric and targeted one of the lumpy areas in the shadow of the ledge above the cave opening and let lightning fly from her fingertips. A scream ripped through the damp evening air and a jolt of movement erupted from the ledge in the increasing dark. Crows screeched and scattered and chaos erupted.

Bull lunged toward the body that had fallen to the ground at the entrance of the cave, still convulsing. Cole disappeared and rematerialized atop the cave entrance, his arms bursting forth into some shadowy figure, the twin, dual-wield blades in his hands dark extensions of his arms. Four more figures poured out of the cave entrance to fall upon Bull, who had just severed the head from the body on the ground. Varric sent an explosive bolt in the center of the group and Ellana focused on creating a small static cage to keep the four from splitting off. Bull didn't waste any time, slamming his massive blade into the wet ground amid the trapped men, sending vibrations radiating out through the muddy earth and knocking the four figures to the ground.

Cole had rematerialized beside Bull, blades spinning with efficient lethality, when four more figures emerged on either side of the trail, just as several more shapes appeared atop the small ridge.

Ellana wondered just how many there were; they were running out like roaches under lamp light. She focused on the nearest target and sent an energy barrage of ice from her staff followed immediately by a jolt of chain lightning. Another one down.

Just as she moved her attention to the fresh archers, an arrow zipped past her face, barely grazing her cheek as it went. Too close. Varric was busy dancing around the two who had come from the opposite side, plying them with bolts as he went. Bull was overrun by yet another wave of men from within the cave. Cole, who seemed to always know when she was threatened, had blinked back up to the top of the cave, crossing his arms and splitting the archer into two pieces as easily as if he had been slicing cake. He wasted no time moving to the next archer and Ellana raised her arms to help stem the flow of men from the cave before Bull was completely overrun.

And then she felt it: a pressure in her back, just below her ribs on the left. She looked down and was surprised to see a wicked looking blade, tinted red in the fading light, bulging from the side of her abdomen. She thought she heard Cole scream “no,” but she couldn't tell where he was. She could feel something hot puffing against her right cheek, and she looked over her shoulder to see a sparkling, devilish grin on a swarthy face. She noticed that he had an odd tattoo along his forehead that looked like a crown and beautiful, pearly teeth.

“This is not personal, my Lady. Alas, it must be done. A Crow never fails to fulfill a contract, no matter how enticing...” His sentence ended in a gurgle and a look of utter bewilderment as his neck split open. Ellana watched in shock as his still half-smiling head slid from his neck, replaced by an intense Cole, his expression an odd combination of panic and rage. Ellana began to float toward the ground, her legs not obeying her will. Cole caught her, mumbling an infinite chorus of “no, no, no.” As he laid her gently against the soft earth, she noticed her hand was still holding her side where the blade bulged from beneath her ribs, coated in her own blood that was still oozing out of her at a steady pace, flowing down her armor to mix with the mud.

The fading light of evening rushed into an early night as her vision faded. She could hear Bull and Varric fighting as if in a dream. She knew she was losing too much blood. “Cole, you have to go,” she managed to speak in a strained whisper as she struggled to remain awake.

Cole just continued to mutter “no,” holding a regeneration potion to her lips and forcing her to drink or choke, his eyes shining with remarkable focus in the dark through the pale tresses that jumped frantically across his face as he moved, her face and her wound fighting for his attention.

Ellana thought the strands of his hair glowed like beams of moonlight.

Her vision began to double as she noticed another shadowed figure emerge several feet behind Cole.

She would never see Solas again. She would never see her friends again. She would never see Cole again. She might have been more accepting of death a week ago, but now, as she watched Cole's clear eyes and felt his hand behind her head, strong and full of purpose… she found she wanted to live. More than that, she wanted Cole to live. She could barely feel the blade lodged in her side, but the thought that Cole might follow her into the abyss – Cole who lived to help others – that thought cut her to her core.

Ellana used her remaining energy to cast a barrier over Cole before slumping into unconsciousness, serenaded by the clash of blades, thrumming of released bolts and screams of death.  


	5. Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana managed to survive her wound, but may not be able to live through her recovery. :)

Mottled light moved and melted back into darkness beneath Ellana's closed lids. Her mouth was parched and her throat made a scratchy sound as she tried to open her cracked lips. She raised her heavy lids to view the familiar ceiling of her own bedroom in what looked like early morning light.

“She's awake, Kid, go grab the healer.” She heard Varric's distinctive voice emanate from somewhere very near her left side and she turned her head to look for him. It took longer than it should have.

“Welcome back, Bolts. Have I ever told you that you really know how to prematurely age a guy?” His hazel eyes shone at her, and through the fog in her head, she thought that was what pure kindness must look like.

“Varric, what...” Panic started to overcome the abnormal sluggishness of her thoughts. “Cole? Bull?” Her voice was a series of whispering cracks emerging from the desert that was her throat. She tried to push herself up, only to wince at a dull ache in her side and the spinning of the room and fall back the pinky's width she had managed to rise.

“Take it easy. They're both alive and well. The Kid hasn't left this room for days. Well...” Varric said, looking up at someone on the opposite side of her bed with affection and concern, “unless you count that five seconds it just took him to go let the healer know our Inquisitor has finally tired of her adventures in the fade.” Varric grabbed a cup from the small table beside her rather plain (by Orlesian standards) bed and put it to her chapped lips.

Ellana closed her eyes, reveling in how blissfully cool the liquid felt in her parched mouth. “Thank you.” She gave him a warm look of gratitude and wondered how long he had been sitting in that chair. He almost had a full beard. “You look _terrible_ .” _And wonderful_ , she thought.

“Ha! Let me get you a mirror before you start throwing around words like 'terrible,' Bolts.” Varric sounded more relieved than offended.

She gave him a weak smile and turned her head, which responded to her wishes a little more quickly now, and gazed at Cole in wonder. He seemed perfectly unharmed. He stood there, fidgeting anxiously, his eyes fixed on her as though she were the only thing in the universe. His face was masked in what looked like tentative hope, like he wasn't completely sure she was really alive and awake. He moved his lips like he wanted to say something, but every time he started, he just sort of... stopped. Ellana stretched out one slender arm towards him to grab his hand and he managed to make himself sit at the edge of the bed, grasping her small hand in his much larger one as though it might break. But he didn't let go. “I'm so glad you're alright, Cole. The last thing I remember, the figure behind you… I thought...” She couldn't finish. She swallowed in the hope that it would restore her tenuous voice to it's usual soft but discernible tone.

Turning back to Varric, she asked, “how did you manage to make it out of there? They just kept coming.”

“Yeah, about that...” Varric sent Cole an odd, uneasy glance before continuing, “the Kid here went all super spirit on us. I had no idea anything could move that fast… it was like watching wind. You didn't really see him, you just saw the movement in his wake. As in falling Crows.” Ellana knew Varric loved Cole like some sort of adopted son, but at that moment he looked almost frightened of him. She looked at Cole, who surely noticed, but he was still staring at her, his look slowly settling back into his veneer of detached calm. The whole strange scenario worried her a bit and she decided to move the conversation forward. “And the child Cole heard?”

Leliana was all business-as-usual as she walked into the room from the stairwell, arms crossed, and followed by… well,  _everyone_ . “The boy was roughed up, tied and gagged in the cave – a well-placed distraction; I would expect no less of the Crows. He has been safely returned to his family. It is troubling, though, that they had such detailed information about Cole's abilities. That particular information is something we have kept quiet since Cole lost his ability to make people forget. Someone within the Inquisition is accessing and sharing information. They also knew enough about your habits to know that you would immediately investigate reports of red lyrium personally. This is very troubling. You are still in great danger, even here.”

A dozen people crowded around her bed. Ellana was glad the excessive size of her bedroom finally served a purpose.

“Which is why I have taken extra measures to ensure your safety. There are guards I know personally, and trust implicitly, placed at your door. We have some of Leliana's agents working to discover the leak concerning Cole's...” Cullen glanced at Cole, with what looked suspiciously like  _gratitude_ and continued, “unique characteristics. We also decided that one of your companions or myself will be on guard in your quarters whenever you are here and will accompany you around Skyhold. You will not be alone again until this situation is resolved.” Cullen looked like a wall. An implacable, handsome, golden-toned wall of absolute, fully-armored, gleaming determination.

Ellana was appalled at the idea. How could they possibly think she would agree to this? She tried to sit up again, succeeding in gaining a position atop her elbows in her disbelief. “What?! No. Absolutely not -”

“We will brook no argument.” Vivienne cut her off abruptly and stepped up to Ellana's bedside, sweeping aside one very clearly annoyed healer to take over the examination of Ellana's wound herself. “Your current situation is much too precarious to take any chances. I believe I might have made a point about the possibility of a scenario like this occurring when you insisted upon this little outing in the first place.” No “dear.” No “darling.” Vivienne was  _really_ unhappy with her.

_H_ _ere we go again_ , Ellana thought, and braced herself for the coming onslaught. Opening her eyes again, she ignored Vivienne's interruption and continued. “Look, I appreciate that you all care and you want to protect me, but this is an anomaly. I was  _so_ capable, you guys  _put me in charge_ , remember? I am the Inquisitor, right? Leader of this do-gooding rabble? I don't need someone to babysit me while I sit at my desk and read!”

“That's nice, my dear.” Vivienne said and pressed a little more forcefully than necessary on the fresh bandage.

“Ah! Hey!” Ellana jumped slightly. Clearly, whatever they had been dosing her with had completely worn off.

“Oh, I'm sorry, darling! Does the wound that very nearly ended your life and destroyed all you have built still sting a bit?” Vivienne gave Ellana a looked of concern. At least it wasn't really feigned. Just a tad self-righteous.

Ellana didn't normally glare. She brushed Vivienne's hands away and narrowed her eyes at the pristine mage. “The one thing has nothing to do with the other. Any report of red lyrium at any time would have resulted in a similar outcome. My need for...” Ellana tripped over Solas again, “ _some time_ was completely unrelated.” Had she gone a whole ten minutes awake before thinking about him? It hurt, but for a change, it also  _really_ annoyed her.

“No, no, you are looking at this all wrong!” Dorian chimed in. Of course. “This isn't an inconvenience or – Maker forbid – a punishment.” Ellana, turned her unhappy gaze on her beloved Tevinter. “Who wouldn't want to spend their nights alone in a bedroom with me? Lords and Ladies alike dream of such a scenario and here I am just offering it to you like a succulent plate of unspeakably handsome fruits.” He raised one perfectly groomed brow and his mustache turned up in his trademark, heart-stealing grin. Then his face fell slightly and he added, “well, this amount of excellence does require  _some_ time for rest and primping. I suppose you will occasionally have to make due with less resplendent company…  _darling_ .” Now Ellana wasn't the only one giving him an unpleasant look.

“Yeah, Sparkler is right, you've got this all wrong.” Ellana was a little distracted by how  _wrong_ Varric looked with a beard. “We'll just all hang out, play some wicked grace and drink too much. Try to think of it as a vacation. Shit, if anyone in Thedas deserves one, it's you.”

“I can teach you how to shoot, yeah?” Sera snorted and burst into her trademark stuttering laugh at the ridiculousness of the idea.

“Not bloody likely,” Blackwall mumbled under his breadth next to Sera, only to have Josephine poke him delicately in his ribs and give him a stern “not now” look. Well, as stern as Josie could look. Still, he cleared his throat and found his serious face.

“After that last outing I think we're going to have to start again with the basics. You know, like walking without falling on a blade.” Bull was shaking his head up and down as if giving the matter serious consideration, his horns bobbing above the small crowd.

Great, now they were taking cheap shots at her nonexistent athleticism. She didn't want to think where this was heading. Ellana's angry face was slipping along with her resolve.  _Damn them and their… just…_ _crap_ . She was  _so_ going to lose this argument. How did someone as easy-going as she was end up at the head of the Inquisition. An elf, a mage and, apparently, a total pushover. She closed her eyes and let her breath out in a slow, deliberate exhale. “Of course it isn't a punishment to spend time with you. I enjoy spending time with each of you and you all know it. But you also know that I am solitary. Even among my clan I would wander off for days in the woods… I just...” Ellana struggled to put her thoughts into words. “I need time alone. To recharge. To… be me.  _Ugh_ .” What was she good at again? She was having trouble remembering at that moment.

Cullen looked at her with something on the scale between admiration and adoration and spoke softly. “We understand  _who_ you are. It's  _because_ of who you are that it is so important that we -”

“No, no,  _no_ ! Bright, beautiful, beams that bounce – inside and out again. Wonderful, warm. The light that illuminates the hurts and never hides, but heals. It shines, soft and strong, so much it makes me  _want_ . And it's dying, bleeding out, dark, disappearing in front of me. I can't. I  _won't_ .  _I won't_ _let her go_ .” By the time Cole finished speaking his voice had reached a frenetic pitch and he appeared panicked, eyes wide and wild as he looked at her. And she knew. He wasn't listening to someone else. He was telling her what was in his  _own_ mind when he thought he was going to watch her die.

The room was suddenly so quiet she thought she could hear a ram bleating in the distant mountains. All eyes were on Cole. The expressions ranged from fear, to suspicion, to pity. Ellana held his hand tighter and stared into his watery, desperate eyes. She knew she was done.

“Well. That settles it then.” Cassandra intoned, pragmatic as ever.

Sera was already out the door, most of the others shuffling out behind her. Vivienne placed one hand on Ellana's shoulder for a second, flashing a cautious glance towards Cole, and then she followed the others.

When only her advisers, Varric and Cole remained, Ellana spoke. “Any leads on this Crow contract?” There wasn't any need to ask about the supposed red lyrium.

“Not yet.” Ellana could tell by Leliana's tone, though, that she had some ideas. “I believe the one who stabbed you was Basilio, one of the Crow's top assassin's – he is said to have a permanent crown. 'The King of Killing' or some such monicker. He was a bit crass, but highly effective. His services would have cost a considerable amount of gold.”

“Can he come back? Like Corypheus. Can we  _make_ him come back?” Cole looked around at Leliana, Varric, and then back at Ellana, questioning. Everyone waited in surprised silence. Then Cole squeezed Ellana's hand firmly, as if making sure she wasn't going anywhere and lowered his head so that she could only see his mouth when he spoke again in a low, pitch black tone. “I want to kill him again.”

Ellana swallowed and tried to ignore the way her hair seemed to crawl around on her head. She shared a concerned look with Varric. She wasn't sure how to respond. It appeared no one was.

Varric stepped up. “No, Kid. You'll have to settle for cutting the guy's head off just the one time. On the upside though, you'll probably get the chance to sever the heads of other people who want to hurt Bolts before this is over.”

“They won't  _touch_ her.” Cole was gripping her small hand with one of his and tracing small designs on the back of it with the lengthy, nimble fingers of his other hand. His mouth was set in a dangerous-looking scowl.

Not for the first time, Ellana wondered at the strange dichotomy that was Cole. How could someone so gentle, so caring be so…  _terrifyingly_ deadly.

“No, they won't.” Cullen spoke to Cole in a reassuring way. If she had known that almost dying would bring those two to some common ground she would have done it…  _no_ .  _Not even then_ . There was, apparently, a limit to her capacity for self-sacrifice.

“Ahem, yes.” Josephine cleared her throat and continued, eyeing Cole warily as she spoke. “I will have my people see what they can discover of those nobles who have both the means to offer such a contract and a history of anti-Inquisition rhetoric.”

“Yes, and I will pursue our leak here as well as seek the help of someone with intimate knowledge of the Crows. Zevran helped us before with Lord Enzo, I believe he would be willing to assist us again.” Leliana's face softened and she added, “you should rest. You have to recover fully. Thedas needs its Inquisitor well.”

“I will make arrangements with the others. Try to relax and heal.” Cullen, Leliana and Josephine left as one, passing Amana as they left, the first of several servants carrying buckets of water. Amana was elven and Ellana had always considered her more of a friendly, occasional helper-with-things-not-Dalish than a servant. It frustrated Amana to no end that Ellana refused to allow her to perform any of her usual attendant duties.

So naturally, Amana beamed in victory as she spoke, “don't you move a muscle, your Ladyship. Today I will be preparing everything for you. You just lie back and let me work.”

Ellana let out a heavy sigh. She was not going to survive her recovery.

“Kid, I think that's our cue to let the ladies work.” Varric moved toward the stairs, willing Cole to move with his eyes. Cole didn't move a muscle. “Kid?” She had never seen Varric look so tired. She resolved to do something special for him as soon as she was able.

“I won't leave.” Cole's voice was quiet, but resolute.

Ellana was beginning to get a pretty good idea of the hell this had been for Varric. She looked at him, trying to communicate how grateful she was as she spoke softly, “it's OK Varric. You go get some rest, we'll be fine here.” She smiled at him again and nodded her head. Too exhausted to debate the issue further, his broad shoulders sagged and he headed out of the room.

The servants who had entered left to get more water for the tub, leaving Ellana and Cole alone in her oversized quarters.

“Cole?” He didn't respond, but simply sat there holding her hand, tracing infinite patterns across her pale skin. Ellana moved her hand slightly in the hope of breaking his trance-like state. “Cole.” His clear, icy eyes rose to meet hers.

“Yes?”

She smiled at him. “Thank you. For saving me. For saving Varric and Bull. I don't know how you did it, but thank you.”

“I was too slow, too many attacking at once, too certain. I let him hurt you.” His voice broke with self-loathing.

“No.” Ellana struggled and forced herself to sit up so that her face was directly in front of his. “You saved me. You kept him from finishing what he started. You helped. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here now.”

“You shouldn't move. The pain pulses still, pushing and pulling where the point was.” He looked so sad, she thought her heart might just split apart.  _Again_ . What was her thing with inconsolable, melancholy men? Of course, this wasn't Cole's normal mood. She could help  _him_ .

“Cole, do you think I am honest? Do you trust me?”

“Yes. True, always true.” Those eyes were like large, cool, direct lines to his emotions. There was no deception in him. It was one of the things she liked best about him.

“Then believe me now, because I am telling you the truth. You saved us. You saved me. That is a wonderful thing. It is not your fault I was hurt... It  _is_ your fault that you will have to continue to see me every day.” She smiled at him and squeezed his hand lightly; there was no need to try to force anything. Being kind to Cole, appreciating him was as natural as breathing for her. She had felt that way the moment she met him. “Thank you,” she repeated and leaned heavily against her right arm that supported her slight weight.

Cole didn't say anything. He raised one hand and ghosted his fingers across her brow, and down her temple to glide over her cheek bone and, finally, along her chin. His eyes were narrowed with intensity as his gaze followed the movement of his fingers and he continued to follow their movement as he grasped one stray spiral of hair and held it as though it were the greatest treasure in Thedas. “I thought I had a hole in me too.” His voice was so low, she almost couldn't make out his words.

She leaned in to try to hear him better and he looked up as she moved. Their noses touched and both sets of eyes widened at the sudden nearness. She could feel the heat slam into her cheeks.

Cole dropped her twirling tress and cupped her face with his hand, his thumb on one side of her chin, palm under her jaw and his long, thin fingers spreading across her left cheek to just above her cheekbone. Ellana swallowed, eyes still unblinking as she watched him lower his eyelids, and study her features. She thought he was holding his breath, then realized that she was too.

His eyes were hooded as he looked directly into her's, his hand still holding her face still. His voice was low and raspy, a tone that made her stomach twist in a strange but not unpleasant way. He chose his words deliberately, speaking more directly than she could remember. “I will  _never_ allow anyone to hurt you again.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I REALLY love that scary part of Cole. The part that doesn't really get the whole, give-people-multiple-chances-to-do-better thing. He seems sort of black and white/all or nothing to me, and I think that would probably intensify while he tries to manage all the newness of being more human. 
> 
> Also, you guys might have noticed by now... I have a thing for a dwarf. I've loved Varric Tethras since he strutted up to my Hawke bouncing that coin purse. I was really hoping that he would be a potential romance in this game. But now, I'm hoping that both Varric AND Cole will be romance options in the next game. Kind of like Shep and Garrus... instant BFFs to forever soulmates. :) 
> 
> Also, I'm hoping that my Inquisitor will at some point be able to beat one smug, original Bianca over the head with a staff at some point. I tried so hard to make it happen in Valammar... *ahem*


	6. Complicated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra offers some advice.

“Oh! I apologize... Inquisitor, I...”

Cassandra's voice was a shock to Ellana's mesmerized system. She jerked away from Cole and let out a “fenedhis” through clenched teeth, grabbing at the sharp, throbbing pain in her side. Cole only allowed his hand to drop to his lap, frowning back at her grimace, keeping his eyes trained on Ellana's face.

Ellana looked over to find Cassandra standing at the top of the stairwell looking decidedly uncomfortable, one questioning brow raised as she examined the odd scene transpiring on the Inquisitor's bed.

“I... am here to take over for Varric. We thought a... female companion might be more appropriate company, for the moment.” Cassandra's eyes hopped back and forth between Ellana and Cole, concern lining her strong features.

Clearly Varric wasn't giving in, either. That dwarf.

Ellana took in a deep breath while the stinging in her side steadily subsided as she kept her body perfectly motionless. Then slowly, deliberately, she eased herself back down on her bed and let out a relieved sigh as she spoke. “Ah, yes, I'd say that's a necessity.” Turning her head toward Cole she continued, “Cole… I will need some time to bathe.”

Cole just looked at her, unmoved.

“I'll have to… take my clothes off. I'll need some privacy.” Ellana tried again.

“It's okay. I've seen them off.” His face was the very image of unaffected. Anyone would have thought he just said “hey, that stone in the wall over there is gray.”

“What?!” Cassandra looked like she was about to drag out her sword and shield.

Ellana's mouth was hanging open and she was pretty sure she was the color of her highever weave under-armor. Her small head dropped towards the bed in mortification. Apparently, her embarrassment was so intense, no further words from her were necessary.

“Oh! I'm sorry. I was wrong.” His face contorted for a second at having caused her discomfort, then he simply moved with unhurried, silent fluidity around Cassandra and down the stairwell.

Cassandra turned all the way around in a circle, her wide eyes never leaving him as he went, then she stared openly at Ellana again, having come full circle. “So, he did  _not_ see them...  _off_ ?” Cassandra's crisp words were marked with horror and utter confusion.

“Ugh. Yes.” She swallowed before confessing. “He did.” Ellana had to confide in someone and there was no way she was telling Varric. Or Dorian. Or Bull. Or, Mythal save her, Vivienne. Or, well,  _anyone_ else. Cassandra was the only one she could imagine sharing this with. They had become quite close over the last months and she didn't believe there was anyone more trustworthy. And Cassandra's not-so-secret romantic side would hopefully temper her need to try to cut Cole in half for his recent… spirit weirdness.

“He did? See you?  _N_ _aked_ ?” Cassandra's rich accent was more pronounced than normal, coming out in clipped, stuttering statements of complete disbelief. Then her olive-toned face transformed, her dark brows meeting at an angry angle, matching the scowl taking shape on her thin mouth. “Did he  _spy_ on you?” The transition from disbelief into anger was progressing at an alarming rate. Her hand moved to rest on the hilt of her sword with the last question. Ellana had a momentary visual of the brutalized practice dummies in the training yard, all splintered wood and lanced, crushed metal marred beyond recognition. Her only comfort was that Cole moved so quickly, maybe Cassandra wouldn't be able to actually hit him.

“No! Cass, it wasn't like that.” Ellana tried to move herself to a sitting position as she watched Amana and four other women pour back into her room behind Cassandra, steam rolling out in billowing clouds above the hot water they carried. Cassandra's head swiveled quickly toward the entering servants and Ellana struggled to raise hersef.

“Let me help you.” Cassandra moved over to the bed and took Ellana by one slender arm, lifting her until her back rested against the headboard of her bed. For such an imposing warrior, Cassandra had a surprisingly delicate touch. And heart. She leaned in closer, her dark eyes leveled with Ellana's large golden ones, a look of complete seriousness hardening her features. She spoke in a low whisper, “we will discuss this matter further, when we are alone again.”

Ellana nodded her head slightly in agreement, “yes.” She wasn't entirely sure what would happen if she dared to disagree.

Cassandra nodded her satisfaction and then went to help the women preparing the hot bath in the massive tub they had pulled from her storage closet. Ellana experimented with moving her sides to see if she could discover the extent of her damage. She quickly discovered that was a mistake, sucking in a breath as she froze again. She squinted and then attempted to relax. She needed to move, it would help the healing. The bath would help.

“Cass, how long was I out? Why didn't they just take me to Caer Bronach?”

“You've been unconscious for two days. Varric and Bull decided – correctly – that Skyhold would be the most secure location to protect you while you recover. They requisitioned a wagon and enlisted the aid of a mage healer and an alchemist to assist in keeping you alive and sedated on the journey back to Skyhold. Charter sent a raven informing us of the situation. I went with Cullen and the Chargers to help protect you on your return. Cullen was… beside himself.” Cassandra gave Ellana a meaningful look and then turned to test the heat of the bath with her right hand. “And Varric...” Cassandra's words were guilt-laden, “I greatly misjudged him. He never left your side.” Then with less guilt and significantly increased suspicion, she added, “neither did Cole.”

Ellana let out a guilty sigh and twisted her long hair with both hands across her right shoulder. She imagined the panic that must have ensued, no one knowing if she would live or not and what the implications would be for each of them personally, as well as for the Inquisition. “I guess I caused a lot of trouble.”

“Yes, quite a lot.” Cassandra's voice was stern, but softened a bit as she added, “please try not to do it again.” She gave Ellana a small, encouraging smile.

“I'll see what I can do.” Ellana lifted one side of her mouth.  _Two days_ . She knew that an injury this traumatic had to be healed in stages, the body encouraged, coaxed in spurts to regenerate itself correctly and completely. She was going to be trapped for at least the next week, maybe as few as four more days if she pressed the issue with the healers. She would have to get around Vivienne and Dorian, though, and that didn't seem likely. Ellana raised her face to stare at the ceiling in frustration, the top of her head resting hard against her headboard.

She was thankful though, to Varric and Bull, to Cullen, Cassandra and the Chargers, to everyone… and especially to Cole. She closed her eyes and thought about his recent strange words and behavior. She couldn't help but feel he was somehow trying to fill the gap… the one left by Solas. He was hurting for her, grasping at her memories of closeness, trying to help and heal her. It was what he did. She doubted he would even understand that his efforts were… disconcerting. And what if he  _did_ understand? It was her own reaction that troubled her most. She would  _not_ hurt him the way that she had been hurt. She would not use him as some sort of second-hand surrogate. She had to try harder to let him know that she was alright, that he didn't need to try so hard.

“It is ready, Ellana.” Cassandra turned her attention to Amana for only a moment, “I will aid the Inquisitor, you may leave us.” In her haste to interrogate Ellana privately, her tone emerged more harsh and dismissive than she intended.

Ellana could see that it offended Amana, but a lifetime lived as a city elf – every moment neglected, or worse, subjugated – curbed her reaction. She simply bowed her head and turned to leave, shoulders sagging in disappointment.

“Amana.” The elven woman turned back immediately. “Thanks. I will definitely need your help tonight, if that's okay?” Ellana gave her a grateful smile.

“Certainly, Ladyship. I'll be ready when you need me.” And with that she perked up a bit and went down the stairs softly, the slight click of the door signaling her absence.

Cassandra approached her, handing Ellana a small healing potion vial. Ellana threw off her covers, and downed the bitter tonic. At first, she was worried about disrobing in front of her friend, but Cassandra knew her well and simply offered her the support of her frame, keeping her eyes averted from Ellana's naked form at all times. It wasn't long before Ellana began to relax. She trusted Cassandra and that set her mind at ease. Better Cass than anyone else. Even Amana.

Within a few minutes Cassandra was steadying her as she submerged her slim form into steaming, scented waters covered in flower petals at the surface to help accommodate her modest disposition. The wound was an angry purple and fading red and it stung a bit when it hit the water line, but she pushed through it. The tub was so large that she could lay down in it if she bent her knees, so she held one of Cassandra's firm hands and covered her hair and face in the healing liquid. She emerged, pulled up by Cassandra's strength alone, feeling like a new elf. She rested herself against the edge of the metal tub, water reaching just beneath her chin and emitted a delicious sigh.

“Now,” Cassandra was beginning to lather Ellana's lengthy hair, ignoring the way the water drenched the series of armor buckles at her wrists. “Exactly  _how_ did Cole come to see you unclothed?”

_Well_ , Ellana thought,  _I_ _knew this was coming_ . She inhaled the subtle fragrance of the herbs in the steam that rose from the water, and let the air escape her lungs as she spoke. “It was the first night we were away in Crestwood. I… wasn't myself. It was the place that Solas took me before. When he took my vallaslin and… ended things.” She hadn't realized just how difficult this was going to be.

“I see.” Cassandra's hands paused for a second at Ellana's mention of Solas, but it was only for a moment, then she continued to massage the suds through the thick locks. She remained silent, waiting for Ellana to find her words.

“Varric, Cole and Bull were camped outside the cavern to give me some privacy. I… let go. Somehow I ended up naked in the water, just… lost.” Ellana stopped talking, tilting her head back for Cass to pour water over her head and trying desperately not to cry. Again.

Cassandra leaned back, gently wringing excess water from Ellana's hair and then letting it cascade down outside the tub to dry. “I am sorry, my friend.” Then she just waited patiently for Ellana to continue.

Ellana mentally shook herself and continued. “Anyway, the next thing I knew Cole was there, holding me. He helped me breathe. To grieve. I think my pain was so loud he couldn't help himself. There wasn't anything sexual about it, he didn't do anything wrong.” Ellana began to scrub her skin lightly, lost in the memory. “He helped me.”

“I understand.” Cassandra said, but her tone said that she didn't fully; Ellana wasn't surprised by her next question. “But, just now, when I entered the room. That did not look… innocent.”

“He is just…” Ellana struggled for the right word, “focused. You know how he is. He can feel my pain and it's who he is to want to help. It has to be confusing, becoming human, still trying to help. I think he's just doing the best he can to try to help me.” She couldn't help but defend him.

“That may be, but do not let your guard down, Ellana. You are wounded now… and not just physically. More importantly, you are a  _mage_ and Cole is a  _spirit_ . That is a dangerously complicated scenario. I fear his desire to help and your gentle nature might leave you open to...” Cassandra didn't finish; it was unnecessary to vocalize her thought.

“He's not fully a spirit anymore. He can't be bound. And he wouldn't hurt me. Cole would never try to possess me.” Ellana sounded a bit like she was sulking, even to her own ears.

“It is  _that_ attitude that troubles me. We do not know how much of him is spirit and how much is human. And he is clearly fixated on you.” Cassandra didn't attempt to hide the worry in her voice.

Ellana let out another long, deep breath, the water helping to sooth her worries as well as her muscles. “Frankly, I'm more concerned about him. I don't think he understands fully what he's doing. I don't want him to get hurt.”

“I do not believe he does either, and I do not wish to see  _you_ to get hurt.” Cassandra flung back at her.

Ellana cut her eyes at the warrior and flicked water at Cassandra, grinning mischievously with her chin in the water. “You worry too much, Cass.”

Cassandra wiped droplets of water from her face and said deadpan, “our Inquisitor is hilarious.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just find Cass to be so... adorable. So, I'm thinking Ellana would try to reassure Cole she's OK and can move on, not fully grasping the nature of Cole's interest. And Cullen is just so eager to help her.


	7. Chess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made and gifts are given.

“Creators, Cullen, what was _that_? I was stabbed with a knife, not hit in the head. There's no pity in chess. And, really, it's a little insulting.” Ellana's delicate brows drew together, one slightly raised as she gave her chess partner a lopsided, teasing grin. Early afternoon light filtered between cotton-colored clouds and through her open balcony to play in shifting blooms across his face. It accentuated his strong features in pleasing ways, a lit seal of approval for his universally recognized appeal.

“It _is_ just a little insulting, isn't it?”Cullen chuckled and brought both hands up, folding them beneath his mouth, his elbows situated on the small table between them, one honey-colored brow rising. The position of his hands brought her attention to the small, lopsided smirk of his mouth. She wasn't sure why, but the scar that ran through his upper lip only served to add to the attractiveness of his features.

“What?” She exaggerated her defensive tone, “it was our first game. All I really knew of you then was that you were the handsome ex-templar Commander of my newly acquired forces. I wanted to get on your good side.” Ellana was so comfortable with him now that she spoke without thinking, examining the board and planning through her next few moves, which he had essentially just handed her on a plate.

“So, you think I'm handsome?” Cullen's smirk widened into a full grin, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners as he examined her mercilessly.

Ellana thought she needed to look into some spell that would filter her words before they left her mouth. Surely that existed. “Of course. Anyone with eyes would think so. The court at the Winter Palace was so taken with you that I didn't think we were going to get you out of Halamshiral in one piece. Are you still getting requests from _interested parties_?” She colored slightly as she teased him and avoided his warm stare as she attempted to recall the strategy that was blatantly obvious only moments before.

“The only person _I'm_ interested in _isn't_ in Halamshiral.” Cullen's voice had softened considerably, and when she raised her eyes to look at him, his face reflected that softness. She could feel herself begin to flush, and thought there must be a spell for that too, somewhere. It seemed all she did lately was try to will away the blush in her cheeks. She had no idea of how to respond. For all of his kindness, for all of his exceptional abilities and his dashing good looks… she just couldn't. Ellana's eyes met his briefly and then found her hands that had retreated to her lap.

Cullen took advantage of her silence and continued. “I know that things have been difficult for you.” He swallowed, his face clearly illuminating the discomfort his thoughts elicited. “But you should know that you have friends here, friends who care for you, who are committed to you.” His voice quieted further. “I would never abandon you.”

“I know,” Ellana replied a little too quickly and gave him a strained smile, her timbre a muted echo of his. She wanted to run away from this line of discussion and all it brought with it. Her heart skipped and pulled at the thought of the one who _had_ abandoned her. For at least the hundredth time, she wondered if she would _ever_ overcome the loss of Solas _._

She had to try. Not just for herself, but for Cole. He had returned that morning two days prior, as soon as she was clothed again, standing quietly in the corner or sitting lightly on the couch or allowing his legs to dangle and kick rhythmically on the ledge above her bed, unobtrusive but insistent. He seemed unconcerned that the others had a roster of shifts prepared, he remained with her regardless of anyone else's presence.

Earlier, as Josephine presented her with another intimidating stack of missives to examine and address, Sera had come in to relieve Cassandra and Cole still remained. Finally, Varric managed to entice him away, explaining that it was customary to offer a gift to a friend who was recovering from illness or injury. Cole's open face had beamed at the discovery, but he still didn't budge until Dorian and Cullen arrived together to take up Sera's post as a unit. Varric ushered him off to Skyhold's small, but rapidly growing market.

Interestingly enough, though, Dorian had a sudden revelation that he had forgotten something urgent, and Cullen gladly agreed to take on the trials of Inquisitor-sitting alone. Dorian had _winked_ at her on his way out. Urgent business indeed.

Since defeating Corypheus, it seemed that her romantic possibilities had become the most interesting topic of discussion in Skyhold. Cassandra, Dorian, Leliana and even Sera had ranged from subtle to downright overt in their attempts to thrust her at Cullen.

Vivienne and Josephine would prefer that she find a power outside of the Inquisition to align with, if she should feel romantically inclined... or even if she didn't. Ellana had been quick to gesture to both her ears and her staff. Still, Josie insisted that with Briala and Celene openly united, Ellana's position of authority, and Leliana's imminent rise to the Sunburst Throne, times were rapidly changing. Even if Thedas could alter deep-seated prejudices, fears and condescension in a matter of months, Ellana wasn't sure she could believe it so readily.

Still, she had spent an easy, enjoyable half hour with Cullen. She felt a tremendous ease in her Commander's company. Until that very moment. The conversation fell into an awkward lull of softly shifting game pieces before Cullen rallied.

“Josephine wants to plan another party. I initially opposed the idea due to security concerns, but she is only interested in a limited engagement: your companions and a handful of other, carefully vetted individuals. Bull was quick to volunteer the Chargers for security. Between them, my best guards and Leliana's people carefully examining all the individuals involved in planning and the preparatory activities… well,” Cullen eyed her with concern, “we thought it might be a good distraction for you.” It came out more of a question than a statement, his expression clearly awaiting her verdict on the idea.

It would be nice to have a get-together before people left Skyhold to continue their lives. Before any _more_ left. Ellana had been so distraught after the tension of the battle with Corypheus and Solas' disappearance that their official celebration had been closer to torture than anything else and she had absconded to her quarters with as much haste as possible. It would be nice to have a true celebration, and she _could_ use the distraction. And the alcohol. She wasn't much of a drinker, but the last couple of weeks left her feeling like she could certainly give it a try. The idea of everyone together, drinking, made her mind wander to their group game of wicked grace and the Commander's revealing situation then.

Ellana giggled at her own thoughts, a regular quirk of hers. It had taken some of her friends quite a bit of time to grow accustomed to her habit of outwardly reacting to her internal dialogue. Cullen grinned at her, “should I take that as a yes, Inquisitor?”

“You absolutely should.” She grinned back at him and the tension of the last few minutes evaporated.

“I am glad to hear it. I'm sure Josephine will be in later to discuss the details.” He stopped then and looked as though he were searching for the nerve to continue.

“What is it Cullen?” Ellana rested her hand on the table near the piece she was about to move and gave him an encouraging smile.

“I would...” Cullen swallowed, a dent creasing between his brows, and he placed his large hand over hers, “I would like it if I could stay close to you that night.” His hand squeezed hers slightly and he added. “To ensure your safety and -”

“Dorian isn't here.” Both Ellana and Cullen jumped in their seats a bit at the intrusion, Ellana quickly grabbing her side with one hand, her other speedily withdrawing, tumbling game pieces as it retracted. Cole stood beside the small table, a frown marring his face as though he had just swallowed something vile. His tone conveyed accusation rather than observation and he looked at Cullen as though he was to blame for Dorian's absence.

And also, possibly for the blights.

In one hand he held something wrapped in a small square of royal sea silk cinched with a silver ribbon, while his other hand hung at his side in a loose fist.

“Dorian had to leave. I assure you, I have things well in hand.” Cullen's words were clipped, his annoyance at the intrusion clear.

“Yes. I _saw_ what was in your hand.” Cole's tone led Ellana to believe that he “heard” more than he saw. She looked at Cullen askance before deciding against considering it and her eyes quickly flicked back to Cole. She would rather not know what was in anyone else's head; she had enough difficulty navigating what was in her own.

“Is that for me?” She asked Cole, drawing his eyes.

His face instantly lit up with excitement, and he directed his attention toward her so thoroughly it was as if Cullen had ceased to exist. “Yes. A gift. I hope you like it.”

Cullen, feeling uncomfortable with the entire situation decided his work could no longer wait. “I'll take my leave, Inquisitor. Thank you for the game.” He gave her a meaningful smile, Cole an irritated nod and moved toward the stairs.

Ellana and Cole both kept their heads turned toward the stairwell, listening to the swooshing and soft clank of Cullen's armor as he descended. When she heard the door to her room close behind him she turned back to Cole and gave him a broad grin, accepting the small package with excitement. He stared down at her eagerly as she pulled one end of the ribbon, allowing the silk wrap to slide down revealing an exquisitely sculpted, tiny glass halla.

“Oh!” Ellana was truly pleasantly surprised. She had wanted to be certain to show him that she appreciated his gift, no matter what it was… given his unique way of helping around Skyhold, she really hadn't known what to expect. But the tiny sculpture was truly breathtaking. “Cole, it's beautiful,” she breathed, carefully picking up the tiny item and slowly carrying it towards the balcony, examining it's nuanced surface as she went. Lifting it into the path of the rays streaming in through the open door of her balcony, she turned it gently first one direction then another, watching the prismatic light flash and flow through the sculpture to throw intricate, chromatic patterns across her floor.

“It catches light, shifts and shimmers, shining it out again.” Cole's voice was filled with joy and wonder. It shifted to a more confiding tone as he added. “It's like you.”

Ellana shifted her gaze from the illuminated, miniscule halla to Cole again, surprised by his words. She thought it was the most beautiful compliment she had ever been given. “Thank you, Cole,”she smiled softly. At that moment, his intense eyes reminded her of the way sunlight reflected on the frozen Elfsblood river in Emprise du Lion. “I will treasure it.” She turned, moving toward the fireplace and uselessly stretching, ignoring the pull in her side, in an attempt to place the gift on the high mantle where it would be safe from harm.

Without a word, Cole stooped beside her, placing her small, rounded bottom atop one shoulder and lifted her in one smooth, effortless push.

Ellana gasped in surprise to find her feet leaving the floor and in her panic, loosened her grip on the halla. Cole's left hand moved in a whir of air and shadow, catching the glass piece securely in his left hand, even as his right wrapped soundly around her thighs, holding her in place tightly against his shoulder and upper arm. The large brim of his hat was flattened against her side and she could make out nothing of his face from her superior position, for which she was immensely grateful, since it meant he couldn't observe her face either. She was sure she could match the ruby hues of la pomme vie et morte in Val Royeaux.

He extended his left hand and she took the fragile gift, placing it carefully and quickly on the end of the mantle where it could catch the light emanating from the balcony.

As soon as she moved her hand away from the mantle, Cole moved too. Rather than squat, placing her on her feet the way he had lifted her, he used both arms to turn her so that she was flush against him, his arms and hands supporting her hips as she slipped down his chest. When her feet touched the floor again, she was pressed flush against him, her hands on his upper arms, her face tilted upward, looking at him in surprise. His hands rested lightly at her hips. His expression was utterly inscrutable. She marveled at his strength. He lacked the bulk of Blackwall, his form muscular but lean, and yet he moved her around as though she were a feather pillow.

Of course, he also disappeared into thin air. She didn't try to rationalize spirit strength in the physical world any further.

“Thanks,” she mumbled and attempted to step away from him. He allowed her to move away but his hand rose and he barely touched her cheek with the tips of his fingers, his thumb lightly tracing the shape of her mouth. She looked up at him, confused, all her senses heightened by his unexpected touch.

“Cullen thinks about touching you. Lips locked, bodies bending. He's _very_ loud.” A soft breeze moved through the room, rustling through his flaxen locks so that they danced lightly in front of his suddenly very intense gaze. His thumb increased pressure, manipulating her bottom lip downwards slightly, forcing her mouth open, his eyes watching his fingers work.

“Oh.” It was the best response she could manage. When did being with Cole become so unsettling?

There was one quick, loud rap at her door, immediately followed by the sound of it opening.

“Boss? I'm coming in.” Bull's voice wafted up the stairs and suddenly she stood alone before the hearth. She wasn't sure what to do with herself, so she simply stood there, feeling a tingling on her lips where Cole's fingers had been seconds before. She found him seated on the ledge above her bed, his feet moving to some beat that only he could hear, his shadowed eyes never leaving her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little under the weather for this one, so I hope it turned out OK.


	8. Shoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The get-together Ellana's been looking forward to escalates into something else entirely, and she isn't thrilled about it.

“My agents, along with Josie's attaches, have seeded the news of a superior assassin, one who has outperformed the Crows at every turn – calculated whispers all meant to entice our mysterious contractor into attempting a second strike.” Leliana held one silk, russet colored shoe in her hand, daintily tracing the violet and gold embellishments in admiration as she spoke.

“Never mind assassins, I'll break my own neck before I make it to the bottom of my bedroom stairs if you force me into those things.” Ellana eyed the shoe's raised heel warily.

“She's not wrong,” Dorian agreed from beside her bed, fidgeting with the gown he had taken charge of a week ago – much to the seamstress' chagrin. Vivienne had been even more irritated and they had finally, begrudgingly, agreed to direct its creation in conjunction.

Leliana had completely forgotten about assassins and subterfuge. “A shoe is more than a mere accessory – it is a proclamation to the world! It is a story and an aspiration. One cannot simply  _not wear_ shoes to a party; she might as well attend naked.” Her fingers still fondled the finery as she sighed in admiration.

“Now  _there's_ an idea: our Inquisitress in all her wild elven glory, with only her hair adorned by a cascade of flowers. She can dance naked in the moonlight as it streams through the glass. Just imagine the Orlesian trends  _that_ would initiate!” Dorian chuckled at the potential of his own idea. “Ha! I see our Commander approves the idea. That settles it, then. No clothes for you!” Dorian grinned and winked in Ellana's general direction.

“For the love of Andraste,  _please_ leave me out of this,” Cullen was rubbing one hand across the back of his neck, his head turned toward the open balcony bathed in mid-morning light, and looking very much like he might prefer to run and jump over the edge.

“'Wild elven glory'? Have you met me?” Ellana looked at Dorian as though he had lost his mind.

“What you understand of Orlesian trends wouldn't fill a teaspoon, my dear.  _Do try_ not to overburden yourself with things complex beyond your capabilities.” Vivienne flicked her fingers at Dorian in a gesture of dismissal and then addressed Leliana. “While it is true that an appropriately crafted shoe can convey more than most conversations,” Vivienne's eyes hopped back to Dorian only for a second, “in  _this_ instance I am forced to agree with Lord Dorian. Ellana would never make it to the hall. More importantly, though, we need her to be seen for what she is: an elven mage in power. To enter in traditional human accoutrement would merely paint her in the subjugation of city elves. Better for her to be branded fierce and wild than weak.”

“'Fierce and wild'? Do you people even hear yourselves?” Ellana was incredulous.

“Not now, darling, the adults are strategizing. This is a different type of battle than you are accustomed to fighting.” Vivienne was in fine form.

Ellana sighed and slumped down, surrendering in a huff on her sofa. One small hand spread across her face muffling her voice as she spoke, “can we please talk about the assassination iss-” Abruptly, Ellana let her hand fall flat and raised her head with renewed vigor. “No, actually, can someone  _please_ explain to me how a small, informal get-together among friends has turned into me having to preen around like some… fierce, wild, glorious, elven peacock?”

Ever the mediator, Josephine stepped in to soothe their balking leader. “No one expects you to 'preen,' Inquisitor, but to merely put forth the best version of yourself. And since your worst self is far greater than most people's best self, this should prove no difficult task for you. This gown is merely an introduction – a way to help visitors gain an immediate recognition of your true worth, as they would no doubt understand upon speaking with you. Simply be yourself and you will have them eating from your palm, just as you did at the Winter Palace.”

“You are being far too kind, Josie. But you also did not answer my question. When and why did this become a ball rather than an intimate affair?” This was not the ale-mug-clinking and bawdy-storytelling night of rabble-rousing she had been looking forward to for two weeks.

“For the record, Inquisitor, I would like to point out that I am as reticent and displeased by this embellishment as you are.” Cullen's look of supreme irritation backed up his claim.

“A guest list of fifty  _is_ an intimate affair by Orlesian standards, Inquisitor. Every noble I invited has been carefully selected and vetted. This is an excellent opportunity to squelch the rumors of your illness that have been flying through the nobility since you received your injury. It is also an opportunity to form further alliances.” Josephine's demeanor changed abruptly to that of a gossiping schoolgirl. “You should pay  _particular_ attention to Duke Gustave Bandemer. He is handsome, very bright and well-mannered and from a respected lineage – and only a decade older than you! He would make an excellent match and has spoken out many times concerning the treatment of elves.” Josie was downright giddy.

“Has he.” Ellana's voice was flat.

“Such an alliance would go a long way in solidifying the Inquisition's position in Orlais. You should consider him well, my dear.” Vivienne's mind was an endless trove of machinations.

“I know! Why don't we just have them line up to examine Ellana's teeth and measure her hips and may the highest bidder win! I mean, why live a life of love and freedom when you can sell yourself into a life of conjugal servitude for the sake of duty and power?” Dorian was beginning to lose his sense of humor, the conversation hitting a little too close to home for him.

“Indeed.” Cullen snorted in disgust, taking the idea as personally as Dorian did, albeit for different reasons.

Cole had been sitting quietly during the course of the conversation, the most recent copy of Swords and Shields, which Cassandra had lent her to pass the time, sitting open in his lap. With a flick of his wrist he turned the final page and closed the book with a soft snap that drew Ellana's attention. Cole looked back at her and stood, placing the book on her bed.

“I have to talk to Varric.” He announced, still giving Ellana an uncomfortable look. He fidgeted as if he were torn in two very critical directions.

“Now, that does sound ominous. Go as you must, I promise to smite anyone who even attempts to look at Ellana aggressively, and with extreme style and grace I might add. They will not only fail to touch her, but they will cross the veil feeling privileged to have exited the world in such a display of masculine glory.” Dorian beamed at Cole and Ellana felt that he was a bit too eager to have him gone. Dorian had been a touch miffed at Cole's interruption of his romantic plans for her and Cullen two weeks ago.

“Yes, quite.” Vivienne rolled her eyes at Dorian and spoke to Cole. “We are fully capable of ensuring the safety of the Inquisitor. There is no need for you to loiter here.” Vivienne gave Cole a searing look as she took in his mixed and mussed outfit. She added, “and, while you are with him, ask Varric to see what he can do about  _that_ ,” one slender finger indicated his shabby ensemble, “as I am aware persuading you  _not_ to attend tonight's gathering would be an impossibility.” She added as an afterthought, “such a shame, losing the ability to make people forget. I would gladly pay good gold to forget that outfit.”

“I  _am_ entirely healed now.” Ellana spoke to no one in particular. “And has everyone forgotten that I'm a fairly powerful mage and might be able to dress myself without a protective detail?”

“I have nightmares about it.” Dorian spoke to Vivienne as though Ellana hadn't said a word. “My handsome form amidst a crowd of people, the center of attention. But I am not stylishly clad, nor am I naked, but I am trapped inside that...  _abomination_ . The horror.” Dorian shuddered theatrically in distaste.

“My clothes aren't an abomination. They're just clothes.” Cole said in a matter-of-fact way.

“Maker, help us.” Cullen mumbled to himself.

“Never mind me, I'm just the person in charge. Or not. I'll just sit here, then.” Ellana's head fell back against the sofa and she closed her eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh.

Cassandra, who had been sitting in annoyed endurance, finally stepped in. “Cole, they do not mean your clothes are literally possessed by a demon.”

“They could have been right, before. Not now, though. I'm free, fading from the fade. It's confusing, but better.” Cole was just setting the record straight, apparently.

“Yes, but… what they mean is that your clothes are not suitable attire for this evening's event. You should ask Varric to help you find something to wear tonight that is better suited.” Cassandra was surprisingly patient with him. Cole looked to Ellana for direction and Cassandra added, “you would not want Ellana to be viewed poorly because you wore the wrong clothes, would you?”

“Never.” Cole had a true look of horror.

“Good, then speak to Varric. I will protect Ellana in your absence.” Cassandra said with finality.

“Yes.” Cole seemed reassured enough then, because he moved quickly to the stairs, turning for half a second to glance once more at Ellana, then disappeared.

“Well,” Dorian said a bit peevishly, “I'm glad you were here, Cassandra, since I am apparently insufficiently capable.”

“I think he is just concerned you might have another sudden revelation that you have forgotten something urgent.” Ellana offered, her tone dry as the wastes.

Cullen cleared his throat awkwardly and attempted to get the group back on topic. “Yes, well, the security this evening might seem a bit excessive, but Josephine assures me that the entertainment will be sufficient to overcome any objections the noble guests might have.”

“Yes, I have a veritable army of people prepared, in every level of the event, who will monitor words and actions and test food and drink. As an added precaution, you must not put anything past your lips unless it is handed to you by Amana. Cole's gift will be invaluable as well. I would like to have him evaluate each person as they arrive, just as he did with the serving staff, without their notice. His insight into the minds of our company will be a powerful weapon.” Leliana sighed and placed one shoe back with it's mate.

“I agree. Cole's… unusual gift will be of great help. We will also have a strong guard presence, each of them having already been carefully evaluated.” Cullen's tone was begrudging, but his pragmatism won out over his discomfort with Cole's recent, almost antagonistic behavior.

“Cole isn't just some useful tool to be wielded at our enemies without consideration of his feelings,” Ellana surprised them all with the emotion in her voice. “He may help if he chooses, but we will  _ask_ him. And I don't want him to have to be on constant alert the entire evening. I want him to be able to enjoy himself. This was originally intended to be a fun distraction. Even if it has become something else for me, I still want Cole – all of you – to be able to enjoy it freely.” Ellana wasn't ready to relinquish the picture of her companions happily carousing with one another, free of worry concerning things that may come or the unhappy memory of things past.

“Of course, Inquisitor.” Leliana placated. “Do not worry. I promise that the evening will be an enjoyable one for all, even those of us who must work even as we play. It just makes the play all the more rewarding, does it not?” She smiled at Ellana and continued. “Speaking of which, it is already mid-morning and preparations began before dawn. We should tend to our duties elsewhere.”

Josephine added in voice laced with excited anticipation, “you should remain here, Inquisitor, until it is time for you to enter. I wish to present you to our guests in just the right moment. Amana will be here in a few hours to help you wash and dress -”

“I don't need help washing and dressing,” Ellana protested flatly, yet again.

“And Cassandra will remain with you until you come downstairs.” Josephine finished and smiled at Ellana. Her face was an odd mix of apology and glee.

Cullen, Leliana and Josephine moved down the stairs, discussing last minute issues and adjustments as they went.

“I will pop in this evening to help with your hair and makeup, darling. Do -”

“I don't wear makeup,” Ellana insisted again stubbornly.

“ _Do_ try to cooperate, my dear. Things will go so much more easily for you.” Vivienne gave her a warm smile and floated gracefully down the steps followed closely by Dorian, who gave Ellana a dashing grin before he disappeared.

Cassandra leaned back in the chair by Ellana's desk and spoke dryly. “Well, this should be fun.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure why, but I had so much fun writing this chapter. And, who knows, Ellana might have some unexpected fun at this Orlesian-style fete. ;)


	9. Crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night of revelations, confusion and miscalculations begins. Poor Ellana.

Ellana twisted slowly before the large glass, attempting to recognize herself and subdue the churning, gnawing pit that had settled in her stomach. A steady din of music and muffled voices droned up from the main gallery and into her room atop Skyhold's main tower. The new, silvery light of the moon joined a crisp wind that fluttered into her room to ruffle the layers of silk and something sheerer that adorned the slender, elven form mimicking her every move. She didn't recognize herself.

“You are an absolute vision, my dear. Raise your head and bear the trappings of your position with grace, as you always have, and your influence will continue to grow.” The pride in Vivienne's tone was undeniable. Considering that she and Vivienne had disagreed so strongly on so many issues, it was a wonder to her that they had developed the strange bond between them. Still, she couldn't help but warm at Vivienne's approval. They might not share agreement in all things, but they shared respect and affection.

This new transformation, the vision before her in the mirror that Amana, Vivienne, and Dorian had birthed, she was not quite so certain of… it just didn't seem like _her_.

The cut of the neckline alone was enough to make her blush. Her cleavage was scandalously bare, the fabric scooping low on her chest and out around her shoulders, leaving them exposed as well. At least, it seemed low to her. She consoled herself that it lacked the depth that Vivienne seemed to prefer. The gown was a thing of artistic beauty though, she was forced to admit, as she turned from one side to the other, watching a pattern of russet, violet and gold leaves shimmer on a silk, copper-colored background. It was as though an autumn-kissed forest had birthed a dress. It was stunning, with it's full skirt that tapered, only hanging to her knees in the front and cascading to her heels in the back. The foot-wraps she wore were an Orlesianesque copy of the traditional Dalish ones she usually wore, rising to her knees in an intricate weave of fall colors, her toes and heels exposed as usual.

The entire ensemble seemed to highlight the snowy tone of her skin and make the golden color of her eyes glow. Her hair was lifted at her temples, fully exposing her elongated ears and then cascading in flower and crystal adorned curls down her small, exposed back. Light color on her lips and around her eyes added to the effect.

She had flatly refused to wear a mask, and the others had relented fairly easily, eventually agreeing that her position was one that applied to all of Thedas, not just Orlais. She couldn't be seen to be too partial to one nation above another. She might be forced to play the game, but she didn't have to obey all the rules.

“Inquisitor, it is time -” Cullen was cut short, stopping abruptly at the top of the steps and staring at Ellana, open-mouthed.

“You can thank me later.” Dorian whispered in Ellana's ear and she was only able to give him a quick look of annoyance before he turned her toward Cullen and gave her a meddling, light shove. She was glad that her Commander was on the other side of the room.

“If you do not close your mouth, Cullen, something unpleasant might wander into it.” Cassandra spoke, her tone amused. “The Inquisitor is prepared to descend, if Josephine is ready for her.”

Cullen snapped his mouth closed, but couldn't seem to look away from Ellana. “Um, yes… I...” He stammered a moment before regaining his train of thought. She could hardly blame him, she experienced a similar reaction when they presented her with the mirror. “Yes, Josephine said that the rest of us should join the party immediately, with the exception of Cassandra. She asked that you continue to stand guard and only exit after the Inquisitor has been announced and received.” Cullen gave Cassandra an apologetic look.

Cassandra looked relieved. “That sounds like an excellent plan. Shall we begin? The sooner we do, the sooner this will end.” Ellana shared a brief look of commiseration with Cassandra.

Ellana examined Dorian, Vivienne, Cullen and Cassandra as they headed down the steps as a group. They were each dressed in finery that fit and flattered, clothes that seemed to compliment not only their figures but their personalities. “You all look amazing.” She beamed at them, her own nervousness momentarily forgotten.

“I _do_ , don't I? Too bad everyone will be so taken with _you_ that they won't have the pleasure of noticing _me_.” Dorian replied with faux annoyance.

Ellana bit her lip in anxiety again while Dorian, Vivienne and Cullen slipped into the noise of the gallery. Ellana caught a glimpse through the crack of what seemed like a sea of bodies, faces both masked and uncovered. Several couples danced in the area outside her door where her throne normally stood. The music was streaming from the balcony that ran around the gallery towards the exit. She idly hoped that none of the musicians fondled Vivienne's things while up there… she would hate to have anyone snap-frozen this evening.

She fidgeted and fussed beside Cassandra in anticipation and Cassandra placed one hand on her arm to calm her. “They already love you; you need only be yourself.”

“Thank you, Cass. For, well… for everything.” She smiled at Cassandra and wondered why she was feeling so emotional.

The music ceased and Ellana heard the trilling Antivan accent of Josephine through the door. “Lords and Ladies, for your pleasure I present our hostess, the Herald of Andraste and our beloved Inquisitor: Lady Ellana Lavellan!”

The door flew open and Ellana stepped out before the crowd not fully aware of what she was doing. There was a complete hush of the crowd as she stood at the edge of the dais, bathed in moonlight from the stained glass. She thought of Dorian's ridiculous idea of her dancing naked and had to stifle a hysterical giggle, even as her face flushed from all of the undivided attention. She was certain she could hear the soft crackle of the hundreds of candles that lit the hall. She knew she had to say something.

Give a motivational speech in the middle of battle? No problem. Welcome a bunch of scheming nobles to a party? She might not survive.

Ellana softly cleared her throat and spoke into the silence that hung so heavy it was like a physical pressure. “Thank you all for allowing me the great honor of your company. I hope to spend time with each of you this evening. This meeting is but a small expression of my immense gratitude to each of you, the people of Thedas who so gallantly supported our righteous cause. Please, partake of every pleasure this evening.” With that, she exhaled slowly, gave her most sincere smile and raised one delicate hand to encourage the musicians to begin again.

It seemed like a full minute before anyone moved or spoke, the musicians lulling at her command. Then, quietly at first, applause erupted and then cascaded into a roar of approval, which seemed to revive the musicians, who resumed their play. Ellana couldn't get off the dais quickly enough.

“Well done,” Josephine beamed at her for a moment before remarking on the gown of a nearby countess.

Ellana moved into the thick of the crowd, she saw Amana and gave her a soft shake of the head to indicate that she didn't need anything at the moment. Amana beamed at her, pride overflowing in the look, bowed and disappeared into the crowd. A cacophony of greetings assaulted her senses as her guests complimented and congratulated her. Ellana smiled and responded to each of them, but kept moving.

She hadn't seen Cole since he had run off to speak with Varric that morning. She wanted to be certain that they followed her orders and didn't have him enslaved at the gate, forcing him to mentally undress people all evening. Also, she was a little surprised by it, but she missed him. She had somehow grown accustomed to him being continuously within reach over the past few weeks.

“Bolts! Wow, you…” Varric was grinning so broadly, Ellana was a little worried about what he might be thinking.

“Hot like fire, sunset colors clinging to the bright. Shining, shifting – soft golden light glowing. So beautiful it _hurts_.” Cole spoke, beside Varric, his face softened with a look of awe. Ellana felt the heat rise in her cheeks.

“What he said.” Varric chuckled glancing at Cole and then back at Ellana. “Congratulations, Bolts, it takes a lot to leave me speechless. They'll be writing romance serials based on the way you look this evening. Hell, I just might take that up myself.” He gave Cole another peculiar grin before turning back to Ellana.

Ellana could only look at Cole. It was as though she had never actually seen him before. He had allowed his hair to dry without being compressed by his hat and it was full and thick, falling around his face and neck in soft, attractive waves. He was wearing a pale blue tunic with silver trim and leather pants with silver embellishments. The tunic was just loose enough to give his lean muscles room to move comfortably. His pants were obscenely snug, though. She wondered for a second if he was as self-conscious about his pants as she was about her too visible cleavage.

“Hey, Bolts...”

Ellana had never really thought about Cole's appearance before. She had found some of his features striking; his eyes and mouth were unusual and his hair so blond it was almost white. But she hadn't thought of him as handsome. Not until that moment. Stunning was a more accurate assessment. Ellana's breathing was beginning to speed up again, and not from the nervousness incited by the party. The way he was examining her from head to toe, completely unabashed, wasn't helping, either.

“Bolts! If you two are done, I think you and I need a minute to talk.” Varric grabbed Ellana lightly by the wrist, finally drawing her attention. She looked down at him in a daze and it took a moment for his words to register.

“Um, sure, Varric.” She glanced back at Cole, for just a second, and then allowed Varric to pull her along out the front doors, down the stairs and into the upper courtyard. They moved slowly past small groups that had escaped the crush of the gallery and stopped in an area beside the tavern that would afford some privacy.

“We might have a bit of a problem with Cole,” Varric started, his tone more mischievous than ominous.

“A problem? What sort of problem? Is he okay?” Varric had Ellana's full attention now, but she glanced back to where she had last seen Cole with a worried expression.

“Well, he is in a bit of a predicament.” Varric was clearly enjoying drawing this out. “You know that scene in Swords and Shields, the one against the armory wall -”

“Yes!” Ellana cut him off, the flush in her cheeks spreading. “No need to rehash the details. But what does that have to do with Cole being in trouble?” Ellana was stumped.

“Well, earlier he asked me about it. Sort of. You know how it is with him. It was all 'skin soft shining,' 'gold glowing,' 'gnawing need that pulls until it hurts'… that sort of thing.” Varric gave her what was clearly intended to be a meaningful look.

Ellana just stared at him, arched brows raised, waiting for some sort of rational explanation.

“He has a crush on you, Bolts. Bad. Like, not-sure-what-to-do-about-it-but-wants-to-figure-it-out-soon bad.” Varric looked at her earnestly now.

“He… what?” She usually didn't have this much difficulty making sense of what people said to her.

“Actually, I think he might even be in love with you. I should have seen it sooner. The way he watches you. The way he guards you in battle. His behavior when you were injured. And since he couldn't give a nug's ass about anyone else in _that_ sort of way – and believe me, Candy tried – it seems pretty definitive. The question is: what are you going to do about it?” Varric's expression seemed less amused now.

“I.” Ellana struggled for a moment with what he was saying. Could Cole have feelings for her? Romantic feelings for her? Love her? She thought back to his odd behavior. His too intimate caresses. His treatment of Cullen. “You may be right.” She finally acknowledged, her voice thick with disbelief.

“Oh, I'm right. So, how do you feel about this?” Varric hesitated before continuing. “I know you struggled when Chuckles... did what he did and even more when he disappeared. Has that...” he clearly felt awkward. He didn't like overstepping, but his protectiveness where Cole was concerned forced him onward, “do you have any interest in him? Because if you don't, just... let the Kid down quick. Having his heart broken is one human experience I'd like to spare him if at all possible.”

Ellana was confused. Massively, utterly, confused. Not just because of Cole's surprising attachment, but because of her own reaction. She couldn't process this information. She needed time to think.

“Varric, you know I would _never_ intentionally hurt Cole. _Ever_.” She attempted to reassure him.

“I know, Bolts. But sometimes... intent isn't enough.” Varric gave her a sad smile.

“There you are. Josephine is looking for you, Inquisitor.” Cassandra said as she approached them.

“Seeker! I have to say that outfit is quite becoming, but where do you keep the knives for stabbing helpless literature?” Varric smiled at Cassandra as he spoke, clearly not eager to engage anyone else in their discussion of Cole.

“Watch where your eyes linger, dwarf.” Cassandra replied tacitly.

“I'll just go find Josephine, then...” Ellana, moved back toward the light, music and conversation that hummed in pleasant waves from the main hall.

“What? You do such a good job of keeping an eye on me, I just thought I should return the favor.” Varric's raspy voice was fading behind her as she moved back toward the crush of people, her eyes skipping frantically over faces in search of soft white hair and large, crystal blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this overwhelming need to protect Cole from the world immediately. It was only after watching him rip a bunch of people apart, seeing his desire to mercilessly punish the wicked and the way he delved into personal... thoughts *ahem*... without any qualms that I began to see him differently. Ellana is going to have to wake up a bit. 
> 
> Also, I'm totally making up stuff about Swords and Shields. :)
> 
> * Made a small edit - apologies! *


	10. Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana finds Cole... and then runs away.

Ellana was feeling a bit lost. She sifted through the crowd, passing so many Inquisition guards she was beginning to think that half of the assemblage was made up of her own troops and agents. She stretched on tiptoes trying to see over the people, most of which towered over her. She knew she should find Josephine, but she really needed to speak with Cole. The idea that she might hurt him crushed something inside of her. She had an image of herself, naked in the water in Crestwood, her pain at losing Solas suffocating her. Then she imagined that happening to Cole.

The idea made her want to die. To scream. To run from that place and never look back. It ripped her heart open all over again. Nothing that horrible could happen, not to Cole.

“Inquisitor!” Josephine's voice rang near her head and Ellana turned toward it, just as Josephine approached. Beside her was a man with an elaborate half mask, a shadow of his dark beard touching his strong jawline.

“Lady Lavellan,” Josephine continued before Ellana could respond. “Allow me to introduce Duke Gustave Bandemer.” She gestured elegantly with one hand toward the man beside her.

Ellana nodded to him briefly, her eyes desperately searching for Cole behind them. She intended to simply say a quick 'hello' and move on, but the Duke grasped one of her hands, bringing it to his full lips beneath the mask, kissing it lightly. “I am enchanted. Lady Lavellan, I hope you will forgive my eagerness, but your beauty emboldens me. Would you accompany me for a turn in your charming garden?”

Josephine raised her brows and twitched her head slightly toward the man in encouragement. Ellana wasn't prepared to have clever garden banter with an Orlesian Duke – her thoughts were fully devoted to Cole at the moment – but the man took her silence as consent. “This way, my lady,” the Duke said in his thick Orlesian accent, folding the hand he still held over one of his arms.

She didn't resist but her eyes continued to search urgently as he led her through the doors that opened to the garden. Just for a moment, she caught a glimpse of light blue and silver blending into the shadows, moving toward the stairs on the opposite end of the garden.

“Oh!” Ellana jumped forward without thinking, jerking her arm free. She realized how incredibly rude she was being and the shame at her behavior arrested her movement, her mind racing for an excuse. “Please forgive my haste, there is an urgent matter that I must attend to. Could we enjoy our walk a little later?” It was the best she could do at the moment. She smiled up at the masked eyes, hopeful.

“Of course, Lady Inquisitor. In fact, I will be remaining as your guest for several days. Perhaps you and I could take our turn tomorrow, when the garden will be less crowded?” He was surprisingly understanding and she was grateful.

“Yes, that is an excellent idea, Duke Bandemer. Thank you for your understanding.”

“Please, call me Gustave.” He smiled again. “I shall greatly anticipate calling on you tomorrow afternoon.” He bowed to her lightly, smiled and headed back toward the noise inside.

Ellana didn't give him another thought, turning instantly and heading toward the stairwell through the moonlight. She passed guards, each bowing slightly as she went, some of them wearing expressions that belied their confusion at her haste. Or surprise at her appearance. By the time she reached the top of the stairs, she was a little winded and she stopped to catch her breath as her eyes scanned the battlements. They froze when she found him. He was standing near the outer wall, his hair white in the rays of the moon, swaying softly, alternately hiding and revealing the eyes that were fixed on her.

“Cole.” Now that Ellana had found him, her relief was quickly overcome by the realization that she had no idea what she was going to say to him. How could she ask him about this? She decided to stick to generalities. “How are you?” She spoke as she closed the distance between them. He remained still as she approached, his attention never leaving her.

“I had to leave. You were everywhere, so many thoughts, wild, weaving. Wishing what they want. It made me want to hit people. A lot.” He wrung his hands in front of him as he spoke, a look of angry irritation played across his features.

She giggled a little at that. “I thought Varric was helping you with that.”

“He says I should use my words. I think they would understand fists better.” He looked disgruntled.

Ellana couldn't stop herself and she laughed again, the sound trickling out of her lightly and catching on the mountain breeze. It was chilly in her less than optimal winter gear, but she didn't mind.

“I like it when you laugh.” Cole whispered, his gaze changing the very air around them.

Ellana looked at him and swallowed, her brows drawing into a delicate frown. “Cole, I need to ask you...” What? What exactly was she going to ask him? _Do you have thoughts about me that you don't have_ _about_ _other people? Do you love me?_ How in Thedas could she even _begin_ this conversation?

“I didn't know. I wasn't sure. It's confusing, it hurts, but sometimes it feels good. Warm, wishing. It's wonderful and I think I might break from being happy.” His expression transitioned from warmth to confusion. “Varric tried to explain.” He answered the thoughts in her head and she turned crimson in the moonlight.

“I see.” Ellana struggled through a long silence and then did what she did best: rationalize. “Cole, all of this is new to you. I think maybe it isn't what you think. We've been through so much together. It's natural for people to form attachments, but it doesn't always mean that they...” she lowered her voice “love that person. In a romantic way, that is.”

Cole looked at her as though he were waiting for her to say something relevant.

She was clearly terrible at this. She tried again, “I'm sure you feel a similar attachment to Varric and Cassandra and all of the others.” She moved toward a nearby crenelation as she spoke, unable to bear his look while she tried to dissuade him from this idea. She had to do what was necessary to spare him any heartbreak. She _would not_ cause him suffering.

“No.” Cole's voice was much closer than she expected and full of resolve.

Ellana started a bit and spun around to find him directly in front of her, the silver accents on his blue tunic so close she could clearly discern every glowing stitch. She stepped back instinctively and felt her bare back and shoulders hit the cold stone of the battlement as she looked up into his face.

Her mind began to sprint with fears and questions. How could she stop this? Did she even want to stop this? She wasn't sure and it scared her more than Corypheus ever had. No. She would not allow Cole to be hurt by her damaged, indecisive thoughts and behaviors.

Her troubled thoughts were cut off abruptly by the feeling of Cole's long fingers, chilled by the evening air, lifting her chin so that he could look directly into her eyes. Her stare fluttered in a panic between his eyes, his hair, his mouth, and the guard that was standing on the battlements on the other side of the stairs near the mage tower.

“He's thinking of a girl with blond hair, soft green eyes alight, she smiles at him and he feels warm. He doesn't see us.” Cole offered quietly, still holding her chin in place, his shimmering-ice eyes never leaving hers.

“Cole, I can't… I won't… it isn't _right_.” Ellana finished weakly. She could feel tears start to pool at the edges of her eyes at the thought of Cole heartbroken because of her. She still loved Solas, she knew that. She couldn't just make herself stop.

He remained perfectly still, so close she was warmed by the heat of his chest and his breath. When he spoke, his voice held a new certainty. “Gentle. You worry for me, wondering, wanting to stop what's already started. I want to heal your hurt. I won't blame you for what I want.” And with that his other hand came up, the pair finding either side of her head. His long fingers wove gently into her hair at the base of her skull, his thumbs sliding across and just brushing her earlobes before resting on her cheeks.

Ellana was transfixed. Her mind stumbled incoherently from one half-formed thought to another. She recalled what Varric said about the scene in Swords and Shields. The one against the armory wall. Ellana felt like she might catch on fire she was so heated with embarrassment at the similarities.

Cole's mouth quirked up at one corner, and he let out a little laugh, reacting to her visualization of the scene and that small movement terrified and thrilled her to the core. Had Cole always had this… aggressive side? She had always thought of him as naive, someone in need of protection but this-

The line of thought dissolved when he suddenly pressed his mouth to hers, his hands holding her head in place. At first he didn't move. His lips sat lightly atop hers, both of them breathing in the air of the other in short, erratic gasps. Then he pressed harder, turning her head more firmly to the side, but he didn't invade her mouth. Instead, he covered her slightly parted lips with one soft, merciless kiss after another, at the corners, at the fullness of her bottom lip. Then he leaned into her further, resting his mouth near her ear, his greater height and weight pressing her against the stone at her back. His soft hair danced in the light breeze, tickling her face.

“I don't want to do _that_ to Varric or Cassandra.” His lips brushed her ear as he spoke. Those words were so crisp – the lack of ambiguity she was accustomed to caused her to exhale forcefully. Nearly every part of him was touching her now and she shuddered visibly at the feel of him against her. _She liked it._

The realization awakened a panic in her and she jerked to the side, ripping herself from his hands and headed toward the stairs in a rush, mumbling incoherently about having to get back to the party as she went.

She had to stop herself from fade stepping into the gallery. She didn't want the guards to panic. Still, she was so intent on hurrying back to the party that she didn't notice Cullen until she slammed into his chest. Cullen used both hands on her upper arms to steady her as she reeled from the confusion of her emotions and the collision. She looked up at him in a daze.

“Ellana? What's wrong?” Cullen's voice was full of worry and his brown eyes examined the garden behind her suspiciously as he moved to place himself between her and whatever had upset her.

“Nothing,” Ellana gasped. She closed her eyes, let out a steadying breath and looked up at him with an expression that said the world was about to end. “Cullen, I need a drink.”

He blinked at her in confusion and then gave her a slow, curious smile. “As you wish.”

With that, he took her by the arm and led her back into the foppish fray. He looked around, able to navigate the faces in the crowd much more easily from his higher vantage point. He signaled to someone and Amana appeared. “Amana, our Inquisitor is in dire need of some spiced wine.” It was her favorite, and she rewarded him with a grin for remembering.

“I'll be just one moment.” Amana rushed off and returned shortly with a crystal glass full of reddish-brown liquid that Ellana gulped down as though it were mountain spring water and she had been trapped in the Western Approach for a month.

Cullen gave her a questioning look, unaccustomed to this sort of thing from their tiny, reserved leader. He nodded to Amana and she returned with another full glass.

Ellana imbibed the next two glasses with a little less vigor. She could already feel the flush of the alcohol. She desperately tried not to think about Cole. Or Solas. Or Cole. She put on a happy face and chatted with every noble she passed, plying them with a wit that she seldom shared with the outside world, but the wine erased her inhibitions. Cullen remained beside her, clearly concerned by her unusual behavior.

“Inquisitor, would you care to dance?” Cullen looked a bit hesitant. They were standing near the first level of the dais where a few couples whirled. His face communicated that he was steeling himself for rejection.

“Actually, yes. I would love to.” She was fully intoxicated, her cheeks carrying a persistent rouge, her eyes a little too lively and she answered without thought. She unleashed her brightest smile at him.

Cullen grinned back at her and took her by the hand to guide her up the small steps. She thought about how odd it was for her to see him out of his armor. He held her near but not flush, one arm extended, the other draped lightly around her waist as they twirled. She felt as though her feet weren't even touching the ground and suspected that it had something to do with her three large glasses of wine.

As she twirled, masks moved past her, music streamed from above, and she was suddenly reminded of the last time she danced with anyone. She closed her eyes in an attempt to block out the image of Solas, demeanor relaxed, deep blue eyes twinkling at her in the candlelight of the Winter Palace. It didn't work.

She opened her eyes in the hope of focusing on someone other than Solas. She examined Cullen closely. She had never realized how graceful her Commander was… through the muddled haze of wine, he looked particularly handsome, his masculine features twirling in the candlelight, his warm brown eyes looking at her longingly. But she couldn't help but compare them to the dark blue ones she preferred. She remembered how Solas had enjoyed the ball, how he had missed such events and how, when she asked him about it, he had prevaricated. As always. The more she examined him in retrospect, the more she was convinced that she never knew him at all.

Ellana's mind raced suddenly to a very different pair of eyes, icy sky blue and all-consuming. _I want to heal your hurt_ , Cole had said. This was all just him confusing a desire to help her with the struggle of dealing with new human needs and emotions. In the fog of her inebriated logic, she desperately clung to the idea that the best thing she could do for him was to end whatever this was now. _How?_

Ellana made a sound of disgust and let her head fall forward slightly in a fit of drunken frustration, her forehead landing on Cullen's chest. Her head felt as though it moved out of rhythm with the rest of her form.

“Inquisitor?” Cullen asked, concerned as he continued to move her as though she were a doll.

She smiled at him through the haze that clouded her head. “It's nothing.” She must have appeared as unsteady as she felt because Cullen lifted her suddenly, holding her so tightly that each of their legs seemed to move as a unit, her toes resting lightly on his shoes as he twirled her, music pulsing around her like a living thing. The intimacy of it forced her to turn her head away from him and she let her eyes pass over the crowd as she spun in the elegant circles he created for them.

Near the edge of the dais, amid a wash of faces was one watching her with unnatural intensity, white-blonde hair still in the heat of the crush of bodies, bright blue eyes narrowed dangerously.

Ellana swallowed nervously, and tried again to close her eyes and shut it all out, but in her mind a pair of long hands held her face and soft, silvery white hair tickled her cheek. Ellana shivered involuntarily. _What in the name of Mythal am I going to do?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the things Cole tells the Inquisitor if you make him more human is that he wants to hit people more. It's just... I love it. You can see it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LblkszOa4eM
> 
> Also, I'm going to have some family stuff going on the next couple of weeks, so my posts will be a little less frequent for the duration. Still, I plan to stick to a minimum of one a week.


	11. Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana decides a miserable Cole is not acceptable.

Ellana drug through the disheveled main hall of the keep with one hand on her throbbing head, the other shielding her eyes. The light through the stained glass windows and the sounds of servants righting chairs, sweeping and removing glasses tormented her. She'd had less than two hours of sleep and far too much wine and had woken up in a fit of sheer misery.

“Here you go, Boss. Drink up. It tastes like bronto shit, but it'll have you back incinerating assholes in no time.” Bull handed Ellana a glass of something fowl smelling and slapped her lightly on the shoulder. She felt the soft blow reverberate in her skull and groaned.

“You know what bronto shit tastes like?” She regretted the question the moment it rolled off her tongue.

“Yeah, good story. See, there were these twin redheads in Seheron -”

“No.” Ellana stopped him, bringing one small hand up in defense and closing her eyes. “Forget I asked.” With that, Ellana held her breath and downed the entire glass. It tasted as vile as it smelled and she sputtered and gagged when she finished, but managed to hold it down. She felt like she was probably some yellowish shade of green.

“Bolts! Didn't expect to see you this early.” Varric was much too loud and much too chipper, and she suspected his extra exuberance was some sort of punishment. She wondered what she'd done to warrant it... the early hours of the morning were still a bit of a blur to her.

“Shhhhh,” Ellana had one small finger pressed into her lips, her eyes still closed. “ _Creators_ . Not so loud, Varric.”

Ellana opened her eyes into miniscule slits of gold and Varric just gave her a knowing smile. She looked around, eyes searching the people cleaning the hall and replacing her throne. She hadn't seen Cole since she danced with Cullen hours ago. She did everything in her power to avoid him after that, which included a few more glasses of wine and, she wasn't entirely certain, but she might have danced with every noble in attendance before finding her bed in the early morning light. Cole hadn't been in her room and Cassandra, being completely sober, watched over her for what little time she slept.

She was beginning to feel enough like herself to worry about him. “Varric, have you seen Cole?”

“Funny you should ask," Varric didn't sound like he thought it was funny at all. "I just spent the last several hours watching him slice Cassandra's practice dummies into splinters.” Varric gave Ellana an accusatory look and she felt the guilt like a hit in the gut. Although, she had to admit, some of it might have been from the foul concoction she had just consumed.

“It is a constructive way for him to channel his emotions.” Cassandra offered, punctuating her remark with a positive nod. It didn't make Ellana feel any better.

“I don't know Seeker, what are you going to assault while the new ones are being built?” Varric gave Cassandra a lopsided grin.

“Perhaps you wish to volunteer as a replacement, Varric?” Cassandra snapped back.

“Aww, Seeker, you  _do_ care. You know how the saying goes, 'you hurt the ones you love...' I told you I was growing on you.” Varric gave her a wicked wink.

“Yes, fungus is particularly difficult to get rid of.” Cassandra quipped in a tone so brittle and dry it might have caught fire between them. Ellana didn't know if it was her addled brain, but it looked to her as though Cassandra was  _blushing_ .

Ellana eyed Cassandra's profile curiously and then turned her attention back to Varric. “Where is he now?” As the pain in Ellana's head and her general misery began to ease, her concern for Cole seemed to increase in inverse proportion.

“He just headed towards the tavern. But Bolts...” Varric started and then paused, a pained look on his face, “just... Ah, never mind.”

Ellana gave Varric the most apologetic look she could muster and moved toward the bright light beaming from the open doors to the hall.

“I'll walk over with you, Boss.” Bull kept up easily with her much smaller and unusually sluggish strides as they moved together toward the blinding light at the exit. Ellana stepped out into the morning, and felt as though her head was being brutalized by some unseen force. She lowered her head, eyes scrunched tightly and let out a miserable moan.

"Don't worry, Boss, a few more minutes and you'll be just fine." Bull grabbed her upper arm with one of his gigantic hands and moved her along like a paper doll. She just kept her eyes closed tightly and trusted him to guide her.

"So... this thing between you and Cole," Bull started, unusually hesitant.

Ellana inwardly groaned at the topic. Apparently, Cole's strange actions had garnered the attention of everyone. She fully expected the cook to lecture her about it later, switch in hand.

Bull didn't continue again until Ellana squinted up at him out of one corner of her eye. "He's a good kid - a little squirrely, but good. And I know he's more human now, but he was... a  _demon_ . And he's still partly... a  _demon_ ." His fear of all that word embodied resonated in his voice.

She had never known Bull to move – or speak – so slowly. It was excruciating. She looked up at him again and found him with his opposite arm raised, long fingers pointing at something before them. Ellana followed where he pointed and for just a second, her eyes widened in surprise before her eyelids constricted automatically against the vibrant light.

Cassandra's practice dummies were decimated. When Varric had used "splinters" she had suspected embellishment. She surveyed the small nubs, all that remained of the main poles, that were left sticking up a few inches above the ground. Around them were millions of scraps of metal mixed with hay, shredded cloth and large splinters of wood. She would have to have new blades made for Cole, surely.

"Oh." Ellana exhaled softly.

"I'm all for him maximizing his humanness – but this obsessive thing he's doing with you, that never leads anywhere good – and that's with regular, non-ex-demony people." Bull used one of his massive hands to shield her eyes so that he could look at her directly. "Be extra careful, Boss."

Ellana summoned her will and opened her eyes enough to look him fully in his one good eye and smile reassuringly. "I'm fine, Bull. It will be fine. He's just... having a rocky transition. Cole would never hurt me. This is all happening because he wants to  _help_ me." It was easy to reassure Bull when she believed it so completely herself. No matter what the others thought, she knew with her every fiber that Cole would be the last person who would ever hurt her.

Bull looked less than convinced, but nodded and moved them back toward the tavern entrance. Ellana found the blessed shade of the tavern and sighed in relief, opening her eyes and allowing them time to adjust. Bull, let go of her arm and made a motion with his head to indicate that he would be in his usual spot, moving away. Ellana let her eyes roam as they adjusted. She took in the scant few patrons, one awake and three more passed out in their seats. Her eyes rose, examining the stairs and the second floor. No sign of Sera; Ellana thought she was probably unconscious on some silk pillows and she envied her. She looked still further and there, leaning against the rail in the corner of the third floor, was Cole, his eyes locking with hers.

Ellana lowered her gaze instantly and moved toward the stairwell. She took her time, partly because of the lingering discomfort of her hangover and partly because she could still feel his eyes on her, and she had no idea what she would say when she reached him.

She would have to try to simultaneously comfort him and attempt to reason with him. Ellana began to itemize a list of reasons why this... whatever it was... was not possible. Hurting Cole. Solas. Heartbreak. Solas. Possession. Solas. Corrupting an innocent. She paused mentally then, remembering Cole's half smile and chuckle at the erotic scene that had popped into her head. Ellana began to think of other things as well. His comments about women thinking about Bull, wanting Bull to do things to them, about Bull's “size.” She considered where Cole spent most of his time: on the third floor of the tavern above  _Bull_ and  _Sera_ . Not to mention all the other patrons. And who  _knows_ what he encountered before she even met him. He must have an endless inventory of images in his head ranging from the innocent to the utterly depraved. The idea made her stomach flip. Her sexual expertise extended to a few kisses.

But just because he knew what things looked like didn't mean that he understood all the implications. It was one thing when he had no interest in participating in those scenarios.  _If that has changed, though..._ Ellana scrunched up her face and rubbed it roughly with both small hands in a futile attempt to try and stop the direction of her internal dialogue as she reached the second floor.

Her mind spun involuntarily to the memory of Cole's mouth on hers and her stomach flipped again. She knew this time it had nothing to do with wine consumption or its repugnant cure.

She continued up the steps and moved toward his usual corner, her eyes on the ground as she went. When she neared the crates where he spent most of his time, she looked up only to find him gone. Her head snapped up and she spun around, head reeling with the movement, to find him exiting into the adjoining tower.

"Cole!" She called softly and followed after him. She was suddenly very afraid that he would refuse to speak to her, to see her. The idea left a bitter taste in her mouth. Ellana moved more quickly than she had since the night before, and didn't know if it was fear of losing him or the promised rejuvenation of her hangover miracle cure kicking in finally.

She ran through the door, eyes wide and searching as she moved. Her fear and less than optimal reflexes kept her from noticing him in front of her in time and she stumbled, trying desperately not to run into him, only to fail magnificently.

Cole caught her with minimal movement, wrapping one arm around her tightly and using the other to reach out and close the door behind her. One small push and a low click and they were alone in an abandoned bedroom. His other arm found its way around her as well and he crushed her to him, her face pressing into the silver stitching of the blue tunic he still wore from the night before. He had found his hat and as he rested his cheek atop her head, it shielded them both from the empty room.

He didn't speak and she didn't know what to do. She wanted to hold him back, to comfort him, to let him know it was all going to be okay. Slowly she raised her small arms, grabbing the back of his tunic with both hands and relaxing into him.

"I saw Cass' practice dummies." She let out softly into the fabric of his shirt. "Well, what's left of them."

"I killed Cullen. So many times – slicing, stabbing, sinking in blades. Varric said it would make me feel better." He sounded lost, drained.

"Did it?" She wasn't sure why she asked the question when she already knew the answer.

"No. I still hear his thoughts.  _So small and perfect. The feel of her breasts against_ -"

"Okay, no need to share any more of that!"

" _Handsome features twirl in the candlelight, warm brown eyes look at me longingly_ -"

"Cole!" Her tone was a little more clipped than she intended. She set aside the unpleasant shock of having her drunken thoughts of the previous evening repeated for her and softened her voice. "Cole, you said you want to heal my hurt?"

"Yes."

"I thought," Ellana searched for the right way to say this, "I thought you would be… happier... if I tried to be with Cullen the way he wants. If I could try to return what he feels... would that make things easier for you?” She buried her face more securely into his tunic, desperately avoiding the scrutiny of his eyes while she asked such a private question.

“No!” He sounded as though she had just asked if he would like to kill some kittens. He removed his embrace, jerking her away from him so that he could examine her face. His features were etched in disbelief. Disbelief transformed to anger.

Ellana was surprised by his reaction. And a little frightened. “But,” she started hesitantly, “I thought that if I could somehow… care for him in that way, I wouldn't hurt so much because of,” she hesitated again, “Solas.”

Cole looked at her as though she had lost her senses for a moment. “Cullen pushes and you pull away. You  _can't_ be  _his_ .” It was clear that he was stating something that should have been universally understood.

She looked up at him in confusion. “I thought that if I didn't hurt so much, neither would you. I don't want you to be in pain because of me.” Ellana would try with Cullen, she would do whatever she had to in order to help Cole. Her eyes found the silver stitching again and waited for his reply. Their breaths seemed unbearably loud in the stillness of the dusty room.

Cole surprised her by pulling her back to him in a quick, firm embrace. He let out a little laugh and she enjoyed the way it vibrated her face against his chest. She was thoroughly lost now, but couldn't help but smile at Cole's amusement.

"I was  _wrong_ ." He said, his tone full of joy and wonder. "Cullen leans into you, pushing, always pressing. You pressed back, wounded, washed in wine. I didn't know  _why_ ." He let out another light laugh and pressed her to him more tightly. "You didn't want to hurt  _me_ ."

_Cole was jealous_ . The thought rippled through her. She had grossly miscalculated how to handle this situation. She made a firm decision in that moment that there would be no one else. She would simply be Cole's friend and completely eschew romance of any kind. No romance was worth Cole in misery. And since Solas had abandoned her so thoroughly and abruptly, she reasoned she would be better off without it anyway.

With time, the pain Solas had inflicted would wane. She also felt sure that, as he learned and grew, Cole would figure out that his feelings for her were those of friendship and that he would understand how to express them more appropriately and not have them clouded by his need to heal her hurt. He just needed care and patience. Ellana snuggled her face into his tunic reflexively, relieved that he felt better and thankful she no longer needed to try to force herself into anything.

If Cole was examining her thoughts at that moment, he chose not to comment on them. Instead, he raised one hand from her back, tangling his fingers into her thick hair and gently pulling to force her to look up at him. His face was radiant as he examined her every feature in detail, his large argent-blue eyes shining with elation, his mouth holding a soft, secret smile.

"Thank you," he whispered, "for healing  _my_ hurt."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My world is all about roller coasters, medieval reenactments and science museums this week and just a general reign of chaos, so hopefully I didn't get off the mark with this chapter. My focus should return this weekend. :)


	12. Zevran

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picking up right where we left off...

Ellana's neck was warm against Cole's wrist, and a small shiver slithered through her at the feel of his long fingers enmeshed in the hair at the base of her skull. She felt the same sensation she had when running through one of the temporal rifts while fighting Alexius: all her senses heightened, the movements of her body frighteningly sluggish, her pulse racing in contrast. She stared at Cole, wide-eyed and managed to exhale a soft “you're welcome.”

Cole's expression turned quizzical as he held her in gentle, but inflexible captivity. “You worry. Reason, rationalize, try to right in your mind the things you think are wrong. But... your spirit is sheer, heart high, skin singing, a look that leans with longing. How can you _not_ know?” He moved his face closer to hers, those shaded eyes examining her face, trying to sort out an answer to his own question.

Ellana's heart felt as though it might hop right out of her chest. Her mind raced to an image of the gruesome results of such a thing and she mentally cursed her overzealous imagination for the millionth time. She tried to focus on what Cole had said, but her mind was scattered, her thoughts chased around by the rapid thrumming of her heart. She licked her dry lips and tried to form a sensible statement.

She managed to move her mouth, but nothing came out. _How did she command a massive army? How?_

Cole just smiled and shifted her head forward slightly, placing a light kiss to her forehead. Then he repositioned the hand in her hair to wrap it around the back of her slender neck at the same moment he moved his other hand further down her back, using both to pull Ellana into him gently. He rested his cheek atop her head again and inhaled deeply.

“I like your hair. Springing, soft spirals spinning.” He moved the hand that rested at her neck to grab a random spiral, pulling it with his forefinger and thumb and then releasing it to watch as it bounced back into its preferred position. His wandering fingers laced into her thick tresses near her nape again, pulling her away from him so that he could look into her face once more. “I like your eyes. Golden glowing, bright like honey warmed by the sun.” His eyes traveled to Ellana's mouth and she stopped breathing. “I like your lips.” Cole lowered his face to hers and brushed his lips to hers softly for just a moment. His eyes were heavy when he pulled his mouth away from hers. “Breathe, Lana.”

Ellana felt an odd tremor shoot through her at the sound of her shortened name; it somehow seemed more intimate than his wispy kiss had been. But she obeyed him for a second time, and inhaled. _So much for appropriately expressing feelings of friendship._

“Cole-”

“Inquisitor?” Leliana's voice hummed through the door to the tavern, followed by the sound of the handle turning.

Ellana attempted to free herself from Cole instinctively, but he held her in place as the door began to give way, clearly unwilling to loose her just yet. She supposed spirits didn't really have much use for things like embarrassment or propriety. She knew struggling would be pointless against his determined strength, so she just prepared herself for humiliation – only to have him release her in a blur. She supposed he was more concerned with her own ideas about embarrassment and propriety and she gave him a small smile of gratitude as Leliana entered the room.

“There you are, Inquisitor. I...” Leliana stopped mid-sentence and the corners of her mouth raised slightly, infecting her eyes with a delighted sparkle as she took in Ellana, red-cheeked and fidgeting nervously next to a completely still and much too close Cole. There was amusement in her tone as she continued, “I apologize for interrupting, but we have received an important visitor. I believe it is imperative that you speak with him as soon as possible.” Leliana gave Cole a quick, friendly examination while he continued to remain focused on Ellana and added with a tone full of mischief, “I am certain that it would be beneficial for Cole to join us as well.”

“Thank you!” Cole's tone was full of gratitude and he rewarded Leliana with a brief smile before refocusing on Ellana.

Ellana suspected that Cole would have joined them with or without Leliana's invitation. She gave Leliana a slight nod, her heart still dancing an erratic jig in her chest, and replied breathlessly. “Lead the way.”

Ellana fell into stride behind Leliana, Cole following closely at her rear. She was thankful that she didn't have to look into those enormous silvery blue orbs that seemed to mesmerize the sense right out of her.

No one spoke as they made their way out of the tavern and back to the main hall, the sent of freshly baked bread and roasted meat eliciting a small grumble from her empty stomach as they passed by tables laden with food. She inhaled longingly, consoling herself that at least her hangover cure had worked flawlessly. Only an hour earlier the mere sight of food would have sent her retching.

They continued down toward the storage cellar, passing Cassandra at the bottom of the stairs. She merely nodded to them as they went, and remained in the open doorway to guard both the stairwell and the room. Ellana noticed Bull standing at the opposite corner of the room guarding the doors leading to her wine cellar and the kitchens. She and Cole followed Leliana straight across and into the tiny, oddly-situated study. As they entered she mentally moved examining the books and cleaning out the cobwebs nearer the top of her to do list. She had ordered that it not be touched until she could examine its contents.

Beside the desk Cullen and Josephine stood with what appeared to be one of Leliana's agents, his back to her. The uniform seemed wrong somehow though, as if the figure it clothed was too overtly self-assured to bother with the stealth the position it indicated would require.

Leliana stopped before the three and turned slightly to Ellana, “Inquisitor, may I present my friend, Zev-”

An exceptionally handsome elf turned to face her as Leliana began her introduction, his eyes widening a nano-second before narrowing slightly with a devilish shine that was reflected by his smile, which displayed a set of perfectly pearly teeth. He cut Leliana off without so much as a sideways glance.

“Zevran Arainai: adventurer, assassin, master of pleasure and killer of Crows. I am delighted to be of service,” he grabbed one of Ellana's small hands and placed a light kiss to the back of it, lowering his voice suggestively, “in any way such a beauteous creature as yourself should desire.” His lilting accent was almost as enticing as his appearance. Ellana liked him immediately.

She couldn't stop herself from smiling at him in return. Ellana noted the intricately embellished Dalish glove that held her hand, but was unfamiliar with the tattoo adorning his face. “Your gloves are of excellent craftsmanship. Are you of the Dalish as well?”

He straightened and his hair, so fair it was an even whiter shade of blonde than Cole's, fell lightly past his shoulders in strong contrast to his sun-burnished skin. He did not release her hand, and she thought she could feel waves of infuriated heat coming from Cole who stood just behind and beside her in the narrow space. She pulled gently to remove her hand without offending their guest and he released her with a bit of a pout.

“Ah, yes, my mother was Dalish, but sadly, I never knew that life. The gloves were a gift from a particularly notable Gray Warden, who happens to be the current queen of Ferelden.” He let out a rich, genuine laugh before continuing. “I must have the blessing of the gods to meet so many sensational women of power and astonishing beauty!” He leaned in closer to her and added, “although, I must say, it is particularly exciting to find the Inquisitor is the _supreme_ example of exquisite lethality.”

Cullen made a noise of irritation and shifted beside the cluttered, dust-covered desk, his hand pulsing warily on his sword handle. Leliana's lips twitched slightly, but she couldn't keep the delectation from her eyes and Josie covered her mouth with one hand to stifle a grin. Cole was dangerously still beside Ellana.

Ellana had no idea how to respond to such flattery and Zevran continued unabashed. “Such a position of power must be very demanding, yes? There are many things I would happily do to you that would help you release those burdens. I could be a great asset to you: a skilled assassin to guard your back and a proficient lover to warm your bed. A tempting idea, is it not?” Zevran raised one hand, a single finger reaching out to Ellana's face, only to be slapped down by a speeding flash of smoke and light.

“No.” Cole had shifted, shadowing himself between Ellana and Zevran, staring down at the smaller elf with a look that would make ice seem warm. One of Cole's arms held Ellana steady, his quick movements in such close proximity momentarily upsetting her balance. His other hand remained open and loose and ready to grip a blade.

Josephine had a look of terror and backed away instinctively until she bumped into one cobweb infested bookshelf, only to squeal in panic, turning and swatting any wayward spiders from her clothes with vigor.

“Sweet Maker,” Cullen cursed softly under his breath, the hand that had been pulsing anxiously against his hilt stopping its rhythm to grasp his sword firmly.

Only Leliana seemed more amused than concerned, remaining perfectly still and observing Cole closely. Ellana knew the bard well enough to recognize that this is what she had been hoping for when she had made a point of inviting Cole to the meeting. Clearly, Leliana had abandoned her nascent Ellana/Cullen matchmaking ideas.

Ellana sighed and placed one small, calming hand against Cole's back, all the while meditating on the thought that she was in no danger. Cole refused to move. Ellana could only assume that he was paying more attention to Zevran's thoughts than to hers at the moment.

Zevran continued to smile, though his voice held a note of disappointment. “Oh! I see you already have an assassin of some great skill at your service. And I should have realized one so gorgeous would already be spoken for... Although, if I am honest, I would probably have still tried. It is as they say – nothing ventured, nothing gained!” He released another rich roll of laughter and his smile broadened as he examined Cole. “You are quite a striking young man yourself. I am certain that the three of us -”

“No!” This time it was Ellana who interjected, her voice practically squeaking with horror.

“Ah, well, as you say. Though, you cannot blame an incredibly handsome elf for trying!” He chuckled a bit as he finished and then his expression turned more somber as he continued, “Yes, I am afraid that we shall have disappointment all the way round, then.”

Leliana finally saw fit to interject. “Our contractor took the bait and contacted Zevran. They enlisted a servant to place a note in Zevran's room requesting that he meet an agent at a local Orlesian festival. My agents discovered the servant that left the note, but were unable to glean anything useful from her. Our opponent chose their meeting place well; with so many cloaked and masked in the same matching garb our people were unable to apprehend the man that spoke with Zevran. We had to maintain a significant distance from Zevran so as not to risk alerting them to our presence. Whomever is behind this assassination plot is clever and patient – dangerous qualities in a rival.” Leliana was clearly concerned, which unsettled Ellana. She was accustomed to her spymaster's certainty in such matters.

“Yes, it is as Leliana says. I fear that, had we been able to accomplish it, apprehending the messenger would have done us little good.” Zevran's features resumed their happy confidence. “On the bright side, however, I am to meet my true employer and receive the remainder of the promised gold once I have killed you.” Zevran grinned and everyone other than Leliana examined him as if he were a serpent prepared to strike. He laughed softly and proceeded to set their minds at ease. “Of course, what they actually intend is to tie up their loose end by removing my head from my neck. Such a thing cannot be allowed, as my head is far too handsome and I quite like it where it is.” He mumbled almost to himself, “I seem to be the only one fond of loose ends...”

Cullen ran his fingers through his hair and pulled at the back of his neck in frustration. “There must be some way to lure them out! We cannot continue like this indefinitely.”

“There is.” Ellana said with hushed certainty. All eyes turned to her, except for Cole's, which remained focused on Zevran, but she felt his body go rigid as he heard her thoughts milliseconds before she spoke them: “We will simply have to give them what they want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The past several days have been insane, and I seriously struggled to get this chapter out. Things should be back to normal now though, so hopefully I can continue (and complete) this story without any more hiccups. :) 
> 
> I love Zevran (ok, admittedly, I love MOST of the Dragon Age characters) so it was fun to be able to include him. I just hope I was able to find his voice.
> 
> And thank you all for the kudos and your encouraging comments; you are a wonderful, gracious lot. :)


	13. Shocked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana decides to assert her authority.

“Not again,” Ellana mumbled as Vivienne held up a burgundy gown with intricate gold embroidery. “It's a stroll through Skyhold's garden, not a reception at the Winter Palace.”

“It is a stroll through the gardens  _with_ Duke Bandemer. Such an occasion must be treated with the utmost care. This is not some simple outing, it is an opportunity to form an alliance that would significantly bolster the Inquisition's influence within Orlais.” Josephine stood beside Vivienne, shaking her quill at Ellana in admonishment as she spoke.

“And such negotiations require a revealing gown rather than a tunic and pants? Am I the Inquisitor or a prize mare to be bartered and bred?” Ellana wasn't ready to give up just yet.

“Do not be so melodramatic, my dear. This is the way alliances are sealed. Maintain your disdain silently if you wish, but you still must play the game. You would be a  _fool_ to do otherwise. This is your armor for this particular foray, which my seamstress was kind enough to travel from Val Royeaux to prepare for you.” Vivienne gave her a stern look.

“I would be a  _fool_ to wear something that covers so little in the middle of frigid mountain tops.” Ellana quipped, though she already knew she would relent. It was a beautiful gown, though she was loathe to admit it.

Vivienne stared at Ellana, her mouth pursed in one of her do-as-I-say-or-be-flash-frozen glares.

“Ugh, fine!” Ellana turned to Cole who had been sitting cross-legged atop her bed in broody silence in the hours since their meeting with Zevran. “Cole, would you mind waiting outside?” To her surprise, he didn't argue, but simply stood to leave. Within seconds she heard the click of her bedroom door.  _That was much too easy._

Amana, Vivienne and Josephine alternated dressing, pulling and primping Ellana in turns. As Vivienne cinched the shimmering belt at her waist a bit too snugly, Ellana eyed the half-eaten plate of cheese, meat and fruit on her desk with regret. She had been interrupted before finishing when Vivienne and an overly animated Josephine had crashed in armed with her current armor of silks and glistening lace.

“There. Now you  _look_ like the Inquisitor. Learn to make the most of every advantage, darling, and you will not only play the game – you will win it.” Vivienne had pride in her voice and Ellana had to smile at the compliment. The dress was stunning, a slightly more modest design than she had worn the evening before, but no less complimentary.

“It is rather beautiful, isn't it?” Ellana spoke softly, ghosting her hands over the golden details of the sheer layers of material that covered the silk skirt beneath.

“Yes.” Cole answered her from the top of the stairwell, his eyes taking in much more than the gown. His sudden appearance startled a small jump from Ellana and Josephine dropped her quill. Ellana made a mental note that the writing implement was not, in fact, permanently attached to Josie's ever-busy hand.

Vivienne was utterly serene and giving Cole an unwelcoming stare, though she addressed Ellana when she spoke. “My dear, please explain to your pet that he will be unable to accompany you on this outing.”

“What? Why?” Cole's look of longing as he stared at Ellana fled, replaced by one of anxiety as his eyes flitted to Vivienne and back to Ellana. “I won't leave you.”

“I don't see why you should, Cole.” Ellana attempted to reassure him. She certainly didn't feel that she needed a bodyguard in her own garden, but Cole's actions had been so bizarre of late that she worried about the consequences of sending him away. She turned toward Vivienne. “I thought that I was to have a companion with me at all times. After all, I might trip and fall on another blade...”

“There is no need to willfully act obtuse, my dear; I am well aware of your ability to fully grasp the nuances of this situation. We have guards stationed in the garden and the Duke has been vetted and searched. No other precautions should be required.” Vivienne applied her usual tone of certainty.

“Yes, and Cole...” Josephine glanced at him briefly in apology, “forgive me for saying so, but he has a way of unnerving our guests. I believe it would be best if you spoke with the Duke in privacy. You must have time alone if you are to get to know one another and make plans for the future.” Josephine's features were overtaken by a far off, wistful look as she considered the possibilities.

Ellana considered for a moment, imagining the Duke's expression upon discovering that Cole would be accompanying them. She clearly saw a narrow-eyed Cole wedging himself between them and brandishing a blade if the Duke should dare to grasp her hand. She knew she shouldn't find it funny, but she had to stifle a laugh at the Duke's imagined reaction.

Cole looked at Ellana and smiled. “See. I can help.”

“I fail to see what is so humorous or how you might 'help,'” Vivienne made a shooing gesture with one hand in Cole's general direction. “Don't you have a nug or a tree to speak with somewhere?”

Ellana cleared her throat and straightened her face. “Ladies, if you could give us a few minutes, I will be right down so you can continue your efforts to place me in some political marriage, despite my very obvious ears.”

Vivienne and Josephine gave her varying looks of annoyance, but headed down the stairs as requested, followed by a quietly smiling Amana.

Cole didn't wait for the door to close before quickly moving to stand in front of her, close enough that she had to tilt her head up to look into his face.

“Please,” he said softly, but the pale blue of his eyes appeared more demanding than pleading.

Ellana swallowed and looked down at his chest that was now covered by his familiar prowler armor. “I'm sorry, Cole, but I think they might be right about this. It will only be for a little while and then we can raid the kitchen together. How does that sound?” He still didn't eat much, but she thought she could inhale a tray of freshly baked bread all by herself.

Cole lifted one hand, trailing a finger against the skin just above the suggestive neckline of her gown sending waves of shivers through her. “Supple skin shivering, fair and free. Low line, eyes lingering. Temptation growing… tingling flesh taken as invitation. He will  _see_ and he will  _want_ .” His voice was decisive, as though he were expressing some prescient fact.

Ellana cleared her throat lightly and took a small step away from him in order to separate his forward finger from her skin. “Well, it doesn't really matter what he wants. It matters what I want, or in this case, what I  _don't_ want. I'll be fine, Cole.” She took a steadying breath and proffered her most reassuring smile. “Besides, I think you might be overestimating my appeal.”

Cole gave her an expression that communicated that he might be doubting her sanity, but said nothing.

“Okay then... you wait here and, with Mythal's blessing, I will be back here before an hour has passed.” She used her most authoritative tone and didn't give him the chance to reply, turning and practically skipping towards the stairwell to avoid any further discussion.

When she stepped into the main chamber, Vivienne and Josephine were waiting, and Duke Bandemer was steadily approaching from the opposite end of the long room.

“Josephine, make sure everyone knows when to meet in the war room in the morning so that we can discuss our course of action.” Ellana attempted to soften the serious expression that threatened to cloud her brow as she thought about this ongoing assassination issue. Glancing once more at the Duke who was almost upon them she added, “also, could you please ask Harritt and Dagna to create a new pair of matching dual-wield blades for Cole? If they can surpass the excellent work they did last time, there'll be a bonus in it for them. I have a small trinket that I took off of a despair demon a while back that Dagna will probably be so excited about that she'll bounce right over the side of the armory and down the mountain.” Ellana pictured the quirky, giddy little dwarven genius bouncing ecstatically over some grotesque fade-touched relic and giggled to herself.

“Certainly, Inquisitor. And please,” Josephine paused and smiled suggestively, “enjoy yourself.”

“Yes, my dear. Please try to remember what is at stake.” Vivienne added with significantly less glee.

“Lady Inquisitor, you are a vision. I am blessed by the Maker to have the pleasure of such divine company.” The Duke bowed elegantly before Ellana and extended his hand for her to take. His smile was warm beneath his half-mask.

Ellana returned his smile, “the pleasure is all mine, Duke Bandemer.” She placed her small hand in his, “shall we explore our small wilderness together then?”

“Please, I must insist again that you call me Gustave. And yes, we certainly shall.” He seemed delighted to take her hand, folding it neatly over one of his arms and using his other hand to cover it possessively.

Ellana couldn't keep herself from peering through the door that opened to the rotunda and for only a second, she hoped to catch a glimpse of Solas studying or painting or pacing, only to remember abruptly that he was gone. She felt the familiar pain and shoved it down again. She was better at it now.

Near the door to the rotunda, she caught the profile of Amana, blushing prettily up at a man in a guard uniform, his light brown hair neatly cropped atop his head that bent towards her. One of his hands held Amana's arm and she laughed sweetly. Ellana smiled at the sight and resolved to tease Amana about her secret lover the next time they spoke. She was thankful at least that Amana could be happy.

The Duke led her around the walkway to the left and into the tiny green area that served as the garden, white Dalish banners fluttering softly in the breeze amid the sparse plants and paths. He patted her hand and focused all of his attention on her as they meandered slowly.

_What was it like to grow up Dalish? Did they stay in one place very long? Did they trade often with humans? What were the_ _ir_ _customs concerning relationships? What did their face tattoos mean? Why did she no longer bear the marks that distinguished her people from city elves?_ Ellana answered his questions openly at first, but his preoccupation with her Dalish roots began to grate on her. A small warning began to gnaw at the back of her thoughts. She was the Inquisitor. The supposed Herald of Andraste. She had sealed a breach in the sky, routed demons and annihilated a darkspawn magister bent on attaining godhood. And yet, nothing but her Dalish ancestry seemed to interest the Duke at all.

The Duke behaved with the utmost propriety, however, and so she did her best to dismiss her suspicious thoughts.

When they approached the opposite side of the gardens, passing the steps to the battlements, Ellana's mind raced to Cole, his hands on her face, his lips at her ear, his hair tickling her cheek and she flushed at the memory.

“You are truly a lovely creature, Inquisitor. I am so pleased I have this opportunity to get to know you. Ah! Here is your small chantry I was told about. Shall we?” The Duke opened the door and gestured for her to step in. There were no guards inside, but despite what the others might think, she was fully capable of protecting herself from one pompous, albeit somewhat charming, Orlesian aristocrat.

“Why not,” she replied, smiling as she entered the small room. She kept her back to him walking up to the statue of Andraste and examining it with an objective eye, carefully avoiding the candles left on the floor by supplicants.

“Your people do not worship the Maker or his Bride, I understand.” Bandemer's voice was too near, causing her to turn sharply.

Ellana was inches from his unmasked face and she stepped back toward the wall, instinct taking over her movements. His face, handsome in all respects was now completely uncovered.

“Your mask?” Ellana couldn't hide the confusion in her tone.

“Ah, I have great plans for us, I would have you see me as I am. As I would see you as you are. That way we can know what we are to expect, no?” He had lowered his voice and his tone was a bit more aggressive than it had been before.

“I am uncertain what it is you might have planned, but I assure that I have made none concerning 'us' beyond this stroll in the garden.” Ellana's senses were heightened, her mind taking on the clarity that often accompanied threats. Her tone was matter-of-fact.

He took a step closer, “come now, little Ellana, you will need a strong ally and you would be hard pressed to find another such as I, willing to take a wildling elf as a bride. But it is that very quality that I find most appealing. You musn't be hasty in dismissing such an advantageous arrangement.”

Ellana did not back away and she gave him a cool smile as she watched him invade her space. “Have you not considered that there might be some danger in associating with a 'wildling elf,' Duke Bandemer.”

He stepped right up to her, forcing her to look up into his dark eyes as he smirked in reply, “this is the third time I have had to ask you to refer to me as Gustave. You are stubborn, I like that. Together, we will tame Thedas into submission, just as I shall tame you.”

Then he did the unthinkable, reaching out one pampered hand to  _pinch_ _the tip of_ _her ear_ . Ellana's vision went white. It took a great deal to truly anger her, but unsolicited ear fondling by a presumptive, delusional, ego-maniacal, covertly racist Orlesian noble was definitely on her list of triggers. She let electricity roll around on her hand as she slowly raised it, giving him an equally slow, icy smile so as not to alert him to what was about to happen. She raised her hand a fingertip's width from his chest and then -

The door to the small chantry burst open and before she could register what was happening, or fill the fool in front of her with a giant bolt of electricity, Cole was behind her prey with one blade at the man's waist, the other blade so close to his throat that a trickle of blood was reddening the edge of the blade. Cole spoke from beneath his hat, “let go of her  _now_ or I  _will kill_ you.”

_Nothing ambiguous about that statement._

Ellana was incensed now, for entirely different reasons, and as the quivering noble, whose silk pants had suddenly gone damp, quickly released her ear she screamed in their general direction. “Cole!”

He adjusted his head so that his eyes could peer at her from beneath his large hat. “Yes.” He sounded as though she might have asked if he would like a cookie.

Ellana scowled at Cole, completely ignoring the man still at blade point, and then made an angry noise before turning on her heal to step into the garden.

“Guards!” She was all Inquisitor, now. There were five guards in the garden; all of them ran to her. Ellana pointed at the first and second one. “You two, please escort  _Duke Bandemer_ outside of Skyhold's gates.” She couldn't stop the disgust from filling her voice upon speaking his name. She pointed to a third guard. “You, please bring Commander Cullen here immediately.” Transferring her eyes to the remaining two guards she continued. “I would appreciate it if the two of you could gather up the Duke's belongings and deposit them outside Skyhold's gates as well. As quickly as possible please, I'm afraid the Duke must be on his way  _at once._ ”

The guards moved in haste, escorting away the now cursing Duke and going to perform their given tasks. Ellana turned to Cole who was standing casually within the tiny chantry. She stalked back in, closing the door behind her and frowning at the innocent expression that adorned his face.

“Have you lost your mind?” She was so irate about what had just occurred she felt like she could spit out bolts better than Bianca.

“I don't think so.” Cole said, his tone calm and slightly confused. Then he added, “you're angry with me.”

“ _Fenedhis lasa!_ Yes, Cole, I'm angry with you!” She practically screamed it at him.

Cole looked hurt and the pain in his voice was deflating. “I wanted to help.”

“I could have  _hurt you_ !  _Creators_ , Cole!” Her rage dissolved suddenly into tears of dread, her emotions completely out of control. “I was just about to fill him full of lightening bolts… just another second and I would have shocked  _both_ of you. I would have hurt you or worse...” Ellana sobbed suddenly at the image in her head of Cole, writhing on the ground from a lightening attack.

Cole sheathed his blades and moved to her, reaching out to embrace her but she scooted away. “No.” Ellana sucked in a steadying breath and continued. “I know you want to help me. To protect me, and, believe me, I am so thankful for the times you have saved my life. But there are times, like this, when you have to trust me to help myself.” She used the back of one small hand to wipe away a tear that rolled across her cheekbone.

“I was worried. Hiding, hearing, I had to stop him from hurting you.” Cole looked at her with such intensity, it made her breath catch in her throat.

“Inquisitor!” Cullen's voice rang out in the garden and Ellana moved to open the door. Cole remained perfectly still. It was clear to her that he was sorry she was upset, but not sorry that he had stepped in. She didn't know what to do.

“I'm… I'm just so glad I didn't hurt you.” She took another calming breath. “I'm going to sleep alone tonight. I'm tired of being guarded in my own keep and I'm tired of not having a moment to myself. I will speak to you tomorrow.”

Cole reached out to her and opened his mouth as if to say something but Ellana flew out the door, commanding Cullen to follow her as she went. She had placated her friends long enough. Tonight she would have some blessed privacy and some time to think without her thoughts being overheard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I've been writing like a crazy person last night and today... so I'm posting this and the next chapter. The next one is NSFW, so I'm a bit nervous about it.


	14. Try

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW. I think. Soooo, here is the deal... This is the first time I've ever written anything of a sexual nature. So, there's that. And I'm not really certain how it turned out. I would never be able to write porn (mostly because I find the extremely explicit stuff just interferes with my romantic imagination), but even to me, this is a pretty tame first step for these two. I mean, she's completely lacking in experience and afraid of being hurt again. And Cole wouldn't attack her, unless she thought she wanted him too, so... Ok, I'm going to just stop babbling and run away now. 
> 
> Be gentle, friends.

Ellana woke to moonlight cascading into her room through the intricately crafted Dalish glass doors to her balconies, weaving strange multi-hued shadows across her floor and covers. Her breath came in restful, easy puffs, the events of the day a distant, cloudy haze thanks to sleep and a glass of wine. It had taken some argument with her advisors. And Cassandra. And Varric. And well, everyone, but in the end she had threatened to incinerate the whole building if they didn't leave her alone for the evening with only a plate of small, frilly cakes and a bottle of spiced wine for company. She loved the cakes, but they reminded her of Solas. The wine had helped. In the end she had stripped down, dropping her clothes and her wine glass before falling into her bed in a fit of irritated fatigue.

She lay like that a few moments before she was awake enough to notice his presence in the room. Once she was alert to him, Cole stepped easily out of the shadows and moved to stand beside her at the edge of the bed. She wasn't surprised; she knew he wouldn't leave her for long, though she was a bit curious about how he had gotten past the guards at her door. His abilities never ceased to amaze her. And terrify her, truthfully.

“You're here.” Ellana spoke in a hushed tone.

“Yes.” For a single word, it seemed like an incredibly complex answer to her.

She stared up at him and time seemed to freeze, the known world waiting while he stood motionless, his face in shadow, back-lit by the invading moonlight. Instead of his armor, he wore a tunic she had never seen before. It was the same as the blue one he wore the night before, but white, and sporting the same silver trim. His hat was missing, his hair freshly dried, bright against the shadow of the room. He was a statue, his achromatic hair, full and uneven, hanging in a curtain around his face, his pale skin and white tunic combined, his entire form seeming to radiate a glowing halo in the moonlight.

“You're not wearing your hat.” Her voice was so low and breathless she wondered if he would hear her.

“I like my hat. Flat, floppy. It's good for hiding... but not for seeing.” He spoke slowly, deliberately, his voice still quiet, but it held a tone of determination that she wasn't accustomed to from him. “I want to _see_.” The words made her breathing trip and fall back heavier than before.

She remembered she was naked under the covers. She was strangely aware of the nearness of Cole's thighs pressing into the edge of the bed, less than a foot from her side. Ellana's own voice was unusually husky and strange-sounding to her own, warming ears when she spoke.

“What do you want to see?”

“You.” She saw the shadow of his adam's apple move in his throat.

Ellana licked her lips that had suddenly gone bone dry. Her heart began to whir and pulse at an intense pace, creating an overwhelming rhythm in her own ears.

“I was afraid you would be upset with me.” As she spoke, she realized how frightened she had been by that possibility.

“No.” Cole's tone was confiding and laced with a thick, gravelly edge.

“I'm sorry I yelled at you. I,” Ellana hesitated, “I was frightened.”

“I know. Afraid for me.” Cole's breathing seemed a bit heavier, but he was perfectly still.

She was mesmerized, drawn in by his ethereal presence in a way that unsettled her completely. She decided to try to sit up to break the strange spell of moonlight and shadow and silver, softly swaying hair. This wasn't Solas. This was _Cole_. What in Thedas was happening to her? She started to push herself up, but was stopped by his quiet voice again.

“Don't.” There was pain in his tone now.

“I was just going to sit up.” She was confused. And more than a little flustered.

“Don't think of _him_. It's so loud. He stirs, staying, stinging. It hurts.” One of his long, thin hands went to his chest and his head dipped slightly as though he were in actual, physical pain.

“I… I'm sorry, Cole. I want to _not_ think of him. I just don't know how to stop.” Creators help her, that was the horrible truth. Solas was in her dreams, in her memories everywhere she went. She was better at pushing it aside, but she couldn't escape him. The aching hole he left must be a constant source of pain for Cole. The guilt was crushing.

Cole moved so quickly, he was just a blur of silver-kissed shadowy lines. Her covers were gone, her slender, unclad form exposed to the cool night air that invaded her room from the encircling mountains. And Cole was hovering above her, his long hands on either side of her head, his knees on either side of her thighs. His hair flickered as his head moved directly above her face, a white flame encasing the shadow of his face. “I want to help. I want to see, to show... to have you see _me_ . Just _me_ , not _him_.”

Ellana had stopped breathing. Her already large eyes were wide, lips slightly parted as she stared up into his heavy-lidded, silvery-blue eyes that glowed eerily in the dark. She was frightened and… excited. She wasn't sure what was happening. She forced her eyes closed, desperately trying to reconcile the sweet, naive Cole she first met with… whatever Cole this was. When she opened her eyes again, his face was mere inches from hers, so close she could make out his features easily in the nighttime shadows. His glowing hair swayed softly at the edges of her face.

“Cole, what are you...” She left the question unfinished as she watched his hooded, unnatural eyes become glowing slits.

“I _want_ . Watching, waiting, wishing for… for you. I want to _try_...” His strong nose moved closer, rubbing gently against her own, his uniquely sculpted mouth dipping a finger's width from her lips and then rising again. His breath caressed her lips in quickening, light exhalations that held the sweet scent of mint. She followed those shaded eyes as though her life depended on it and tried to remember how to breathe. She couldn't think of how to do anything but stare into the shimmering-ice eyes of this otherworldly creature above her.

“You have to _breathe,_ Lana.” A shiver went through her at his use of her shortened name and his voice was so soft that she wondered if she just thought he said it – but she obeyed him, not for the first time. She opened her mouth, gasping, her chest heaving air in and out at a desperate pace.

Cole took advantage of the new distance between her parted lips, dipping his mouth again, this time pressing his to hers, his tongue flicking out tentatively at first. He made a small sound deep in his throat and turned his head slightly, plunging deeper into her mouth. His kiss was erratic, unpredictable – a delicious experiment.

The shock of the situation she found herself in quickly bled into a deep, feral sort of need. She felt heat pool and surge in the depths of her and she responded to his tongue with her own, moving her hands up to grasp at the white tunic that covered his broad back. Her reaction seemed to please him, because she felt his mouth move into a smile and he moved away from her slightly, his lips pulling her bottom one with his as he went. When he released her mouth, he grinned at her, his teeth a light gray contrast to the darker gray of his lips in the dark.

“I liked that.” The grin on his face conveyed that first, but there was something about hearing him _say_ it. She shivered again. Not from her nakedness or the chill in the room. In fact, she was no longer feeling the coolness of the mountain air whatsoever.

“So did I.” Ellana's breathless voice sounded surprised, even to her own ears. She was terrible at hiding her emotions.

“I know. It makes me happy.” It was a simple statement of fact. Total, unabridged honesty. She didn't know what to do with that.

She didn't have long to figure it out, as his eyes locked on her mouth again and his smile dissipated into a look of longing. His words came out in a throaty purr. “I want to do it again.”

So did she, Ellana realized, and she sucked in a little air in surprise, lifting her lips slightly towards his. It was all the encouragement he needed, this strange, intensely hungry Cole. His mouth fell on hers again and he played her tongue in every way that made it difficult for her to hold still. It was as if he could feel everything she did, and every move he made was an answer to what she needed.

He moved one hand from beside her head, grasping her face with his long fingers to turn her to the precise angle that gave him deepest access. Heat was coming off of her in waves and she was having difficulty keeping her hips on the bed. His kiss was _consuming_ . Ellana couldn't stop one of her small hands from reaching up and tangling its fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. If this is what it felt like, she _wanted_ to be consumed.

Cole moved his mouth away from hers, never breaking contact with her skin. He used his hand to turn her head away and he whispered words, beautiful poetic words, about the taste of her mouth, the softness of her skin, the scent of her neck, his lips traveling down her jaw and throat as he spoke. His mouth stopped at her collar bone and his tongue traced lines along the ridge, dipping into the small pivot at the base of her throat. His hand slipped away from her jaw and down, fingers lightly misting across her neck and chest and stomach, leaving waves of quivering flesh in their wake.

“Skin, salty and soft, shivering as it shines. I like the way you taste.” His words were punctuated by ragged breaths. She had both of her hands in his hair now, head arched back, exposing herself to him completely. Her thoughts were a muddled haze, transfixed on him alone and blocking out any thought of modesty or decorum.

There was only Cole. Cole's eyes. Cole's mouth. Cole's voice. Cole's hair in her hands. Cole's strong, insistent hand. He continued to murmur things she couldn’t understand as he moved further, exploring every inch of her skin with those clear eyes and constantly moving lips.

Ellana thought she might explode with this new tension. Cole moved his roving hand to the heat between her legs and Ellana couldn't stifle the incomprehensible, pleading noise that escaped her. She couldn't think anymore. She could only feel. She didn't notice when Cole shifted, but when her eyes opened of their own accord, his face was above hers again, his icy eyes burning into her, absorbing every movement, every soft sound as his fingers moved. His breathing was coming in heavy pants, his eyes devoted to her beneath slightly lowered lids, his sculpted mouth continuously moving as he whispered unintelligibly to her. She stared into his face and felt she might lose herself entirely. She wondered if this was what possession felt like. His fingers found a place and a rhythm that made her body sing and his face blurred in front of her as she desperately tried to reach some new height.

Ellana lost control of herself entirely, her fingers digging into Cole, her face tensed in ecstasy as she shuddered and let out a violent cry that resonated in the overly large and silent room, her slender hips rising into his long, mercilessly pulsating fingers.

“Beautiful,” Cole whispered in a voice that almost sounded like worship as he watched every infinitesimal movement of her face. Then his mouth found hers again, his deft hand moving to grasp her hip with a forceful push, planting her hips firmly back against the bed as he situated himself between her naked thighs.

“Inquisitor! Are you alright?” The door to her room flung open and heavy boot steps slammed against the stairs in a rush. She recognized the husky voice immediately.

Her eyes flew open in pure panic as the horror of being caught in her compromised state flashed through her suddenly, painfully focused brain at lightning speed. Her terror must have been so overwhelming that Cole had no trouble picking it up and it broke the spell that he seemed to be under. He moved with unnatural, dare she think it, _demonic_ speed – a blur of shadow and light. Her coverlet was replaced, concealing her naked, quaking form and Cole was sitting perfectly still in the chair behind her desk across the room as the footsteps neared the top of the stairs. When the guards emerged calling for the Inquisitor, Ellana couldn't manage to speak to reassure them.

“She is safe, spirit singing, sated. I am here.” Cole said to them as he rose, as though his presence alone should be enough to indicate to anyone that Ellana was in no danger. His voice and demeanor were the very picture of perfect calm.

Ellana could only stare at him with wide eyes as she half sat up in her bed, desperately gripping the coverlet to her chest and struggling to calm her erratic breathing. ' _Sated_ _'_ ? _Creators, what was he thinking?_

The younger guard relaxed at having Cole's reassurance that everything was okay. But the one that owned the voice she recognized, Krem, was also there, and he didn't look quite so convinced as his gaze slid suspiciously from Cole's placid face, to Ellana's disturbed one and then back to Cole. He wasn't convinced at all.

“Inquisitor? Are you all right? I was told that you were alone.” Krem's raspy voice hummed quietly in the early morning air, his suspicious eyes narrowing on Cole.

“Yes,” Ellana managed to get out, finally getting her breath under control. “I'm sorry for worrying you, Krem. Both of you. I'm fine.” She chose to ignore the fact that Cole wasn't supposed to be there.

“Nightmares, Ladyship?” The younger guard looked at her with pity, already convinced.

Krem turned his handsome, disbelieving face to examine hers, waiting for her answer.

“I… just, I don't know.” She didn't want to lie, but she couldn't possibly tell the truth.

Krem wasn't buying it. He was clever to start with and had spent much too much time in Bull's company.

“Really, Krem.” Ellana smiled at him in her most reassuring way and sidestepped an awkward confession by offering another truth instead. “Cole would never let anyone hurt me. I was surprised when I woke up, that's all.” And Creators, nothing in the history of Thedas had ever been more true than her last statement.

“If you say so, Your Worship,” Krem placed his sword back in it's sheath, relenting but not really believing. “The sun will be up soon and the Ambassador will be here with it, would you like me to call for your attendant?” Clearly Krem wasn't going to be reassured until Ellana was no longer alone with the strange spirit-human rogue that hovered lightly by her desk.

“You care for her, concerned, watching and wary. _I won't let anything happen to her._ ” Cole didn't seem to be bothered by Krem's skepticism at all. Rather, it appeared to make him happy. He smiled at Krem, adding, “I am glad.”

Ellana turned her gaze on Cole in wonder, yet again. The early morning rays of golden light created a soft halo against his fair hair. She was so confused about what had happened, what was happening. But she also felt happy for the first time since, well, before Solas left.

Cole's head turned toward her, but she couldn't make out his expression in the low light.

Ellana then turned an appreciative smile towards Krem, completely calm now, breaths coming soft and slow. “Thank you, Krem, I would appreciate that.”

Krem nodded and both guards turned back toward the stairs. “And Krem,” Ellana said quietly, causing him to turn toward her again abruptly, “thanks for looking out for me.” She gave him a soft, heart-felt smile.

“Anytime, Ladyship.” And with that, he disappeared from view. Ellana turned her attention immediately back to Cole, uncertain of what to say.

When they heard the door click into place again, Cole vanished only to manifest directly in front of her again. He placed one hand on her face, his thumb pulling at her lower lip, pulling her to him for a lingering kiss that made her heart speed up again.

“ _My_ Lana.” He whispered into the silence when he pulled away from her, eyes glowing.

Ellana had the exhilarating, terrifying feeling that she had just jumped off a mountain ledge.

* * *

 

Clarice, aka [TheChampion04](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheChampion04) created another amazing piece of artwork, specifically for this chapter. *fans self*

[ ](http://clarice04.deviantart.com/art/I-Want-to-Try-545697608)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There has to be some place I can hide...


	15. Tonic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana shares her plan with her inner circle and meets some significant resistance.

“No shit, there he was, silk brocade covered in piss, flat on his ass in the snow!” Varric's rich chuckle rang in the war room as people shuffled and adjusted.

“No frigging way!” Sera's maniacal laugh drowned out everything and everyone else for a moment as she propped her rear end on the table beside Varric and leaned in Ellana's direction. “Hey, Inqy, you should've told me, yeah? I would have paid good coin to see that rich tit taken down some.”

Ellana chewed on her bottom lip, her gaze aimless and clouded by memories of long, thin fingers and whispering lips against quaking, sweating skin. She couldn't discern anything but her own breathing as she moved automatically to her war table, its surface littered with maps and papers and Sera's backside. She didn't so much stop as collide with it.

Varric, who very deliberately chose to ignore Ellana's preoccupation with nothing in particular, continued with glee. “Then, a couple of guards come out and toss his things on top of him while he's still on the ground – all the while he's raving about a boy trying to cut his head off!” Varric chuckled again, the image fresh in his mind. “There has to be a way I can work that scene in somewhere.”

“It was pretty entertaining, I'll admit,” Blackwall's deep voice rumbled in his chest near Josephine, “although, we should be mindful of the consequences. A rich and powerful man like that will be looking for payback soon enough.” Blackwall eyed Ellana curiously, “and I do have to wonder what he did to incur the wrath of our Inquisitor.”

“He physically assaulted her!” Cullen interjected with barely controlled rage. “Had he not been already gone when I learned what he had done,” his eyes wandered to Ellana, “I would have taken his head off for real, Orlesian politics be damned, and let him seek his vengeance from the grave.” Cullen huffed near a window, his vexation at the entire scenario likening his face to a roiling, golden storm cloud.

“He did  _what_ ?” Dorian straightened beside Bull, where he had been leaning casually against a window, laughing at Varric's retelling. “Why didn't you  _tell me_ about this?” Dorian looked at Ellana in alarm.

Ellana heard the humming of voices and something in the back of her mind reminded her that she needed to pay attention. But the strength of the voice of responsibility was drowned out by the sound of Cole whispering “I want to  _try_ ” and she was certain she could still feel his downy hair in her fingers. Her bottom lip turned white beneath her teeth and her brows drew together, her breath quickening.  _What am I going to do?_

Dorian's eyes narrowed as he examined Ellana's face, mistaking her confusion over the events of the early morning hours for distress over what had transpired the prior afternoon. “I'll  _kill_ him.” Dorian bit out in a murderous hush. “Cullen, I say we make a little excursion to Val Royeaux. I feel a sudden need to interrupt someone's dinner.”

“I'm in.” Bull's voice was a deep, dangerous grinding sound beside Dorian. Although, he was watching Ellana and Cole with keen interest during the entire discussion.

“Please! While I realize that the Duke's actions were entirely unacceptable and inexcusable, we must acknowledge that such an unfortunate occurrence with one so highly ranked among the court  _will_ harm our cause. It will take a great deal of maneuvering to overcome this incident.” Josephine contributed in a tone of contrition.

Cullen's heated gaze narrowed on Josephine as though she were Maferath disguised in king's willow weave.

Leliana spoke quietly from the opposite side of the room. “There are other ways to deal with this boor. He may no longer be within the walls of Skyhold, but he is certainly still within our reach.” Leliana didn't need to add what would be done to him for everyone to know that she had something decidedly unpleasant in mind.

“I would have killed him. Lana didn't want me to. She won't let you kill him, either.” Cole had moved from just inside the door to stand beside Ellana, one hand reaching out to stroke her arm with great attention. His voice expressed a deep resonating disappointment.

Ellana jumped a bit at the sound of his raspy voice so close beside her, and she looked into his face for a moment before gawking at the single, pale finger that traced a vein in her arm. She had a momentary look of panic, and then refocused her vision on what was actually happening around her.  _Creators! Focus, Ellana!_ She adjusted slightly, moving her arm away from Cole's fingertip.

“Are you alright, Inquisitor?” Cullen was eyeing her and Cole with intensity, along with everyone else in the room. They had apparently  _all_ noted Cole's use of her abbreviated name, his casual touch and her panicked reaction.

Ellana looked at her companions, finally focusing on Bull and then Cullen. Clearly Krem had reported her “nightmare.” And her company.  _Fenedhis._

“What's this 'Lana' shite? You giving out nickames now too, Creepy?” Sera glared at Cole, clearly disturbed by the increased degree of familiarity.

“Enough.” Ellana said, taking a deep breath, loosing her lip and joining the conversation that had been background noise a moment before. “We aren't here to discuss Bandemer. What he did was inappropriate, but I was fully capable of handling the situation myself. There will be no retaliation of any kind from anyone under my command.” Ellana turned her attention first to Leliana, then to Josephine, “Leliana, Josie, have your contacts monitor the Duke. Should he decide that some sort of revenge is necessary to restore his dignity, we will handle the matter accordingly.” Ellana's tone held a note of finality, clearly indicating that the issue was not up for debate.

“Yes, my dear, you are quite right.” Vivienne approved solemnly.

Ellana held up one small hand and narrowed her eyes at first Vivienne and then Josephine. “I am not finished.” Ellana's tone could have taught the mountain air something about frigidity. “Henceforth, there will be no matchmaking of any kind, am I understood?” In her irritation she didn't allow anyone the opportunity to respond. “I don't care how nobles go about their business. Should I ever decide to tie myself to another it will be a person of my own choosing and for reasons that have nothing to do with Thedas' political situation. Are we clear on this matter?” Ellana looked around the room, golden eyes flashing.

Vivienne merely offered a barely discernible nod. Josephine looked like she might burst into tears as she offered a humbled, “yes, Inquisitor, I am terribly sorry.” Blackwall unhooked one of his hands from behind his back to pat Josephine lightly.

Ellana didn't regret her decree, but she did regret her harsh demeanor. She began again in a lighter tone, “Josie, you couldn't have known. I don't blame you for doing your job, for trying to increase the influence of the Inquisition in what is a commonly accepted mode. And he fooled me too, at first, truly. But this Inquisition is not common. And the people who fill its inner core, I would dare say, are also not common… perhaps especially me.” She paused for a moment, smiling gently at Josephine who looked at her through watery eyes. “We will find some other way to grow and help the people of Thedas. I simply do not have the character required to make that kind of sacrifice.”

“And thank the Maker for that!” Cullen mumbled to himself.

“Here, here! If you did decide to proceed with such insanity, I would be forced to tie you up and lock you in your room until your senses returned.” Dorian huffed at her with a look of affection.

Bull gave Dorian an odd, lingering look, the brow above his good eye raised in an amused question. Dorian flushed slightly at his own wording.

Ellana glanced at her slightly, rosy-cheeked Tevinter and granted him a lopsided grin and then returned to the matter at hand. “Alright. Now that the unpleasantness of yesterday afternoon has been handled, we can move on to the actual reason I called you all here.” She let her gaze alight on Bull again, “Krem is positioned outside the war room as I requested?”

“Sure thing, Boss.”

“Good. We can't afford any servants overhearing this.” She looked around at the faces of her assembled companions and advisors and dove right in. “Zevran was contracted to assassinate me. We believe it to be the same contractor that acquired the services of Basilio. They are careful and our options are limited.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “So, I have decided to draw them out by giving them what they want.”

“What's that, then?” Sera hopped off the table so that she could face Ellana full on. “You planning to lie down and die for them?”

“Yes. Sort of.” And Ellana gave them all a half-sneaky, half-apologetic grin. “Vivienne will return to Val Royeaux and have a small reception to welcome me when I visit. Mind you, we need just enough people so that rumor of my demise spreads rapidly, but not so many people that maneuvering will be difficult.”

“Perhaps twenty people of significant influence within the court?” Josephine offered.

“Yes, that sounds about right.” Ellana agreed and continued, “at this party, I will be poisoned by Zevran, and my death will take place in front of Orlais' elite. It must be convincing, not just in the moment, but for days after. Zevran's contact will meet him at the designated location a week after my apparent demise, where our people will swoop in. Following that, the Herald of Andraste can rise from the ashes yet again. We will have our prey and, should the masses choose to view such a thing as a sign that their Maker isn't finished with me...”

“Yes, such rumors could only help the Inquisition. An excellent tact, Inquisitor.” Leliana interjected her approval.

The room was quiet for a moment. As she examined the faces of her friends, all held a look of concern, save Leliana who had a small, secret smile.

“Um, Bolts,” Varric's brow was creased with worry as he glanced at her, then Cole, “how exactly are you planning to 'die' in front of all these nobles?”

Ellana hesitated and she heard a sharp intake of breath from Cole beside her. She started talking before he could protest. “I understand that there is an alteration that can be made to the Tears of the Dead potion, that will cause a person to appear dead for up to three full days -”

“No, no, no!” Cole was unapologetically in her personal space now, hovering agitatedly beside her, his round, cool eyes wide with panic as he searched her thoughts.

Ellana took a steadying breath, looking down to avoid Cole's intensity and proceeded as if he hadn't spoken. She knew that this was going to be a difficult proposal to sell to her circle, but she believed it was necessary. “The ingredients needed are rare, but attainable given our resources. We will require some time to procure what is needed, a week or perhaps two, and to allow Vivienne time to make any necessary arrangements.” Ellana swallowed and prepared herself for the onslaught.

Vivienne spoke first. “I am aware of this potion and it is an option, albeit a dangerous one. We will have to be exact in our measurements, my dear. We must employ the utmost precision in everything if this is to succeed.”

Cole's head turned toward Vivienne, a look of rage darkening his fair features, his eyes emanating an intense snowy blue through narrowed lids. His hat was still missing, allowing everyone present to feel the full effect of his ire. “ _A dangerous tonic. Deadly. She likely won't survive._ ” Cole's voice lowered dramatically as he practically hissed at Vivienne, “You  _know_ . Black tendrils that creep, crawling through veins. It captures the heart and squeezes. I won't let you hurt her.”

Vivienne had a mild look of alarm, but her voice was steady. “Ellana darling, I think it might be an appropriate time to explain the concept of calculated risks to your pet here.” She straightened her shoulders and then added under her breath, “not that explaining will likely be of any aid.”

“Ellana, yesterday's events have clearly thrown you off balance. Or made you insane.” Dorian started with disbelief in his tone. “I know you to be a woman of great sense, so I can only assume that you are either not fully aware of the dangers of this tonic, or events have driven you out of your adorable little mind. Cole is right, it is too risky. I flatly refuse to lose my best friend because someone accidentally put an extra drop of deathroot tincture in your pudding!”

“Thank you, Dorian.” Cole looked at Dorian with hope before turning back to Ellana.

Cullen generally disliked arguing, particularly with Ellana, but he was on edge already and very clearly unhappy with this plan. He faced her fully with his hand accenting his words as he spoke. “I am unfamiliar with this potion, but I would balk at exposing you to anything that made you  _appear dead_ , for any amount of time, even if I was  _guaranteed_ your full recovery. It is clear that no such guarantee exists here.” His hand made a flat swipe in front of his chest. “It is out of the question.”

“What should we do then?” Ellana's voice rang high, a desperate tone ringing against the walls. “I should remain a prisoner in my own keep indefinitely? I should look over my shoulder for the rest of my life?” Ellana's frustration level was rising.

Cole used one hand to turn Ellana's face so that he could look into her eyes as he spoke. “You are frightened, frustrated, the hurts and haze of not understanding slip and snarl in your mind until you can't see. This  _isn't_ the answer.”

Cassandra eyed Cole warily and assumed a soothing tone as she spoke to Ellana, “I am afraid you must accept the reality of your position: that you will always be a target, my friend. You cannot take unnecessary risks with your life every time a threat is made.”

Ellana forcefully moved her head out of Cole's hand; looking at him, feeling him, was too confusing. She wanted the clarity of anger. Ellana fixed a nettled gaze on Cassandra. “I think a crow blade slicing through my innards and Cole, Varric and Bull nearly being killed is a bit more than a 'threat,'” Ellana returned heatedly.

“I agree with the Inquisitor.” Leliana's voice rang pure and clear, demanding attention. “We must draw this person into the light. Such a threat inhibits us from moving forward, and while precautions must always be taken, specific attacks must be dealt with decisively. To not do so would be to show weakness and incite our other enemies to move against us as well.” Leliana spoke in a reasoned, calculating tone. She softened the edge of her words as she looked at Ellana and continued. “Such a plan carries risk and I would not wish to lose you, but I see no better course at this time.”

Ellana nodded slightly in agreement.

“No!” Cole suddenly grabbed Ellana, his hands on either side of her face, turning her to face him. A collective gasp emanated from the assembled group and Ellana could hear the high, singing sound of blades of various sizes being unsheathed and feel the power emanating from Vivienne and Dorian as both summoned their will to manifest frost and fire at the ready.

Cole appeared not to notice, his focus on her so intense it was as though they were alone in the whole of Skyhold. “Please.” His voice wavered and cracked as his eyes gazed down into Ellana's, frantic and pleading. “I  _will_ protect you. Ten, twenty, an army. I  _will_ kill them  _all_ . But the black seeping in, soaking, sucking out life, slithering through your veins... I  _can't_ protect you from  _that_ .” His voice was agony.

Ellana felt water burn at the edges of her eyes as she looked at him, felt the trimmer in his hands and listened to the excruciating pain of his tone. She reached up and carefully placed her hands over his wrists, squeezing them gently. “Cole, I will be okay. This is my decision. We will take great care in our preparations and minimize the risk. I will need you to protect me while I am unconscious; you are crucial to this plan. Will you help me?”

“Help you? Help you  _hurt yourself_ ?” Cole was incredulous. He began to mumble, his eyes staring past her in barely controlled terror as he spoke, _“_ dancing on the knife's edge of death, daring the black, licking at the light, lingering, leading you through the veil...”

Ellana was torn between convincing Cole and addressing the others in the room who where visibly troubled by the new intimacy that was palpable between Ellana and Cole, and Cole's increasing panic. She gently pulled his hands away from her face, grateful that he permitted it. Ellana allowed her eyes to wander around the room, making a quick assessment of her anxious companions, all with at least one hand ready with a weapon… all but Varric and Leliana. Varric simply looked back and forth between her and Cole, his face the picture of worry. Leliana had a look of pity as she watched Cole stare at Ellana.

“Varric, would you mind going with Cole up to my room. I'll be there in just a few minutes.” Varric nodded slightly and lightly touched Cole's arm.

Ellana looked at Cole and squeezed his wrists with her small fingers. “Please wait for me. I'll be there in just a moment and we will discuss it more, I promise.” Ellana did her best to focus her swirling thoughts on how much she needed him to do as she asked.

Cole's face was suddenly pale marble, his light brows drawing together in livid determination. He abruptly loosed her face, his hands making white-knuckled fists at his sides that pulsed in time with the muscle in his jaw. “I will wait.” He tilted his head minimally in Varric's direction and added, “alone.”

Varric's hand dropped to his side and the entire group watched in silence as Cole exited the war room with cat-like, coiled grace, looking for all of Thedas like he might murder the door on his way out.

When the door clicked into place behind Cole, Varric looked at Ellana, his visage full of troubled surprise. “Well, shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so, Cole really dislikes this plan. I think that this fledgling couple is about to have its first tiff. ;)


	16. Dorian!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana gets some simultaneously happy and sad news and faces an angry Cole.

“I think that's enough for now. Any questions?” Ellana examined her inner core of confidants, minus Cole, who all stood around her war table, their expressions ranging from solemn to irate. The air in the room was warm and heavy with worry, despite the efforts of the chilly mountain wind that whistled lightly through the open windows.

“No questions, Inquisitor, but I must speak with you about a related matter. It will only take a moment.” Leliana's voice was sedate.

Ellana gave her a slight nod of consent, then thanked everyone and watched as they began to trickle out silently. She grabbed the cloth of Varric's shirt, stalling him, and spoke in a hushed tone, “Varric, I think you and I should talk about some,” Ellana averted her eyes and swallowed, “things.”

“Sure, Bolts.” Varric raised his eyebrows and emphasized her choice of wording, “it certainly does seem that  _things_ need to be discussed. I'll be by your room this evening. With alcohol. Something tells me I'm going to need it.”

“An excellent plan. You can let me know when you head towards this meeting concerning _things_ , Varric, and be certain there's plenty of wine for all three of us. Or just enough for me. I have every intention of doing a little drunk dressing-down of one impossibly stubborn, dainty elven mage later on.” Dorian focused his full ire on Ellana. “And I will expect you to sit there and listen to every profound, incisively sharp, and marginally slurred word of sense that comes out of my mouth.” Dorian dropped his words angrily at Ellana as he passed beside Varric. He gave her a reproachful look as he turned back toward her briefly. “Should anyone require someone still actually in use of what's in their head, I will be in the library searching for some alternative plan that won't lead to you ending up a corpse atop a funeral pyre.” Dorian was very vocally not pleased with the plan. He hadn't been the only one.

Cullen gave her a severe frown as he passed, but was clearly too angry to trust himself to speak with her at the moment. She was enormously thankful for his self-control. She would have enough scolding today, he could have his turn tomorrow.

Leliana waited until the others exited and the door closed before speaking to Ellana. “Inquisitor, I have received word from the clerics. It seems I am to be the next Divine after all.” She had an expression that seemed to jumble wonder, disbelief, joy and just a touch of regret.

“That's wonderful news, Leliana!” Ellana's glee at her hopes being realized was quickly tempered by the impending departure of her friend. Her smile turned sad. “Thedas is truly blessed, although I must admit, things just will not be the same without you.”

“I am certain that we shall see each other often, after all, it is only natural that the Divine and the Herald of Andraste would have a great many things to discuss, no?” Leliana flashed a beautiful, conspiratorial smile before continuing. “I have been training Charter and Scout Harding so that they might act in conjunction in my stead. Both have great potential, although the ultimate decision as to who fills my shoes will, of course, be entirely your own.”

“Those will be some difficult shoes to fill.” Ellana quipped, grinning a bit. “When will you depart?”

“I believe my ascension to the Sunburst Throne might also be of immediate use to you. I will have the ceremony conducted after your 'death' so that it might be interpreted as further proof that Zevran has completed his task.” Her eyes crinkled mischievously at the corners.

Ellana threw her small arms around the rogue in a fit of emotion. Her friend, her spymaster, her advisor was leaving to take on yet another identity. She willed away the tears and whispered, “I'm going to miss you.”

“As I shall miss you.” Leliana patted her affectionately, returning the embrace lightly before exiting the war room.

Ellana took a moment to reign in her emotions before she moved, adding herself to the sparse tail of the subdued exodus. She glanced at Josephine as she passed her office on the way out. Her ambassador was already seated, the quill in her hand busily at work again, her lovely face marred with a deep frown of concentration.

Varric was repositioned at his table before the fire in the hall; he gave her a sympathetic look as Ellana forced herself to move toward the door to the left of her throne at the end of the great hall. Toward Cole. She was wearing a ring velvet sleeveless tunic with silver embellishments and matching pants, one of the many new items of clothing Vivienne's seamstress had prepared for her, and she played with the trim as she moved forward with the least amount of momentum possible.  _Cole is angry with me._

The thought terrified her. While she knew he would never harm her, it was still disconcerting to have his wrath directed toward her. When she had witnessed his anger in the past, nine times out of ten someone ended up sliced to ribbons. She knew that she was in no danger of meeting that fate, but with the events of the early morning, this strange new… whatever it was between them… she had no idea what to expect. The not knowing was torment. How could she steel herself for the complete unknown?

Ellana had loosed her hem half way down the hall and raised her head. She needed to show her guards that she was unafraid, no matter what the complicated truth might be. Ellana swallowed the rising lump of anxiety in her throat and came to a stop before Grim and Dalish, who were standing guard at her door.

“Hi,” Ellana offered them each a small smile, “is Cole inside?”

“Hmf,” Grim offered an affirmative grunt. Dalish gave her a bizarre, almost painful-looking smile.

“Thank you...” Ellana alternated her gaze between the two as she continued. “Cole is… unhappy with me at the moment, so there might be some yelling. I'm not really sure. I'm afraid I'm in uncharted territory here.” Her smile weakened a bit. “So, I'm not certain what you might hear, but  _no one_ is to enter unless I specifically scream 'someone help.' Which will not happen.”  _Fenedhis_ , she swore at herself internally for displaying her nervousness. She was absolutely hopeless when it came to hiding how she felt. Neither Grim nor Dalish altered their expression or position in the slightest. She wondered what orders Bull had given them. Ellana pressed, using her most commanding tone, “am I understood?”

“Hmf,” Grim added a slight nod of ascent.

“Sure, Inquisitor, if that is what you wish.” Dalish's smile was a little smaller but her eyes were still much too wide. The effect was disconcerting.

“Okay, then.” Ellana hoped that her word would supersede whatever Bull's might have been and pressed through the door to her tower, closing it carefully and quietly behind her. She followed the deck and stairs, worrying the silver trim on the edge of her tunic again with her small fingers. When she reached her bedroom door, she paused and inhaled, lifting her head and straightening her shoulders before entering.

She had half-expected Cole to be in the stone stairwell, but all that met her eyes was the gray of her steps. She continued her slow march up, her breathing increasing in fear. Or anticipation. Or both. Being alone in her bedroom with Cole was a bit overwhelming, considering his earlier visit. And what _was_ she going to do about that? She didn't even know how she felt about that. Ellana chewed on her lower lip and pushed those memories firmly away. _One insane, bewildering situation at a time, Ellana._

When she reached the top of her stairwell, she looked into her room to find Cole standing in the center, his eyes locked on her, his fists still clenched at his side. His eyes were two blue chips of ice and they glowed at her beneath his long locks of hair shifting lazily in the breeze. Ellana imagined that she could see shimmers of seething heat emanating from him.

Ellana was struck suddenly, for a second time, by how strikingly attractive she found him. His severe expression seemed to heighten and enhance the angles of his face, contrasting with his glistening, softly-swaying flaxen hair. Ellana mentally slapped herself, closing her eyes and shaking her head slightly. She wondered again what was happening to her.  _Creators_ ,  _f_ _ocus!_

Cole's frown eased a bit before he spoke. “I am very angry with you,” he bit out in an abrasive, low tone. He turned then, pacing like a caged animal and wringing his hands in front of him as he moved from her desk to her bed, then back again.

And there it was, clear and concise. Ellana consoled herself that at least she never had to worry about him telling her something other than the truth. Unlike… other people. Ellana resisted the urge to go to him, to try to comfort him. She wrung the hem of her shirt between her fingers in front of her, unconsciously mimicking his agitation, and offered a penitent, “I know.”

“You  _don't_ know.” Cole returned with intensity, moving to stand in front of her so quickly that she almost stumbled backwards from the suddenness of it. His hands encircled her upper arms to steady her. “The conclave. Sealing the breach. Haven. Corypheus.” Cole's words came more and more rapidly as he continued, his hands rising to hold her face so that he could look directly into her eyes. “They mesh a pattern, muddle your thoughts, make you think you can do it again and again. But you're  _wrong_ . You, the real you that is here, where I am real with you... the poison will sink in and steal it away. You will slip through the fade and  _I might not be able to find you._ ”

Ellana flinched, wanting to look away from his intensity, but Cole wouldn't allow it. He was afraid that she was being reckless with her life, afraid she might die. How could she console him? She decided it might be better if she didn't.

She did her best to harden herself, for all the good that had ever done her. “Cole, you are more real now, and the fact is that real things are transient. I  _will_ die at some point. This body will turn to ash and dust and my spirit will cross the veil. There is no avoiding it.”

“There is!” Cole practically yelled at her, but he had released her abruptly and was pacing again in front of her, this time between the nearest balcony and the sofa. “Not then.  _Now_ . You always risk, helping others, holding yourself out – a cover for the helpless, but this…” He stopped and faced her again, “this will kill you and it will only _hurt_ and help  _no one_ . Why can't you  _see_ ?”

“I  _can_ see.” Ellana returned, her own voice rising. “I recognize that there is a risk, but there is more to life than just living, merely existing. Quality of life matters. The future of the Inquisition matters. How can I continue to help the people of Thedas if this situation is not resolved? Some things are worth risking your life.” She had stopped gripping the hem of her shirt, her hands forming loose fists at her sides.

He took a step closer to her, the frustration illustrated in his tense form seeping into his voice when he spoke. “No. Some things are; this is not. You think it is because you don't  _hear_ and you don't _see yourself_ . You don't know what you are.” Cole shook his head, blond hair jerking softly against eyes that were closed tightly in his desperation to explain. “ _T_ _o_ _me.”_

Ellana felt her heart skip at the broken sound of his words and her thoughts raced to the many possible meanings of the phrase 'to me.' She inhaled deeply, her face flushing, but he continued before she could offer any sort of reply.

“And to Dorian, and Varric and Cassandra and The Iron Bull, to everyone here, and to everyone you helped. To the people who find freedom from fear in their faith in  _you_ . No one else... the Maker is far away. You think the Inquisition is living, a light standing alone, that it will linger without you, but you  _are_ the light. It will all fall dark when you are gone.” He had taken another step toward her, putting her within his arm's reach.

Ellana considered his words. Blackwall had told her something very similar right after they first arrived at Skyhold. It was her nature to dismiss her own worth. She examined Cole's face, taut with anticipation and fear. “Then give me an alternative,” she offered softly, always willing to reach a happy compromise if she could.

Cole frowned, but the anger was gone. “Stay. No party, no poison.”

“An alternative that resolves this situation.” Ellana clarified. “'Do nothing' is not an acceptable option.”

Worried lines etched Cole's pale skin and his eyes were wild as his thoughts flitted in frustration from first one possibility to another. A few seconds passed between them, Ellana waiting patiently, Cole searching, before he said with a smile and hope, “Dorian!”

Ellana couldn't stop herself from smiling at the look on his face. “He's in the library searching for a safer option as we speak.”

Cole's entire person lit up, his eyes sparkling, his mouth a broad grin. Before Ellana realized what was happening, he enfolded her in his long, strong arms. It lasted only seconds before his hands traveled to her hair, entangling his fingers in her thick curls and pulling to turn her face to meet his. He placed a quick, gentle kiss to her lips that were agape in surprise. Pulling away again he announced with determination, “I will help,” releasing her and sprinting down the stairs and out of her room in a flash of light.

Ellana stood still for a moment, now alone, her fingertips to her tingling lips. _One worrisome conversation down, and one extremely confusing one to go..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, folks, just a couple of things. I originally intended to have this be a massive blow out for these two, but as I tried to write it, it just seemed out of character. Cole and Ellana are both peacemakers. As far as Ellana is concerned, conflict is an unhappy byproduct of life that should be avoided and minimized as much as possible. She's about logic, compassion and compromise whenever possible. Cole just wants Ellana to be safe. In the end, I just couldn't see Ellana drawing this out. That being said, they will encounter a few issues that produce significantly more fireworks in the chapters to come. Like Solas. And denial.
> 
> Sorry for making you wait!
> 
> Also, when Bull introduced Dalish in the game, I somehow had the instantaneous impression that she was full-on, batshit crazy. Just in case you were wondering...


	17. Illusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana makes a slight change to the plan and gives a partial confession.

Ellana lifted her head, looking up from the pile of missives and reports she had been pouring over, her quill stilling in her hand at the miniscule click of her bedroom door opening. She had too little time to consider who would enter without a word or knock before Cole appeared in front of her desk. _Ah._ _Of course._ She smiled automatically at him, a bit surprised by how happy she was to see him. More specifically, how happy she was to see him happy.

“We found it! Sleeping, safe, no poison. Only pictures painted of what we want them to see. Dorian can help.” His voice was as animated as his features with what was apparently ecstatically good news.

Ellana grinned broadly at him, absorbing the way his hair moved, more golden blond than silver in the amber light of early evening. Her heart flipped and thudded erratically in her chest, forcing her breathing to catch. It had been less than a dozen hours since she had argued with him in her room, but she recognized with a start that she had missed him. Again. A lot. Her grin disintegrated into a small, concerned frown. The last thing she wanted to do was encourage Cole in his mistaken, inappropriately romantic attentions. _What is wrong with me?_

Cole sucked in a sharp breath suddenly, eyes widening momentarily and then crinkling at the corners with a wide smile that exposed his bright teeth. “You _missed_ me,” he breathed, elated. He disappeared in a flash of inky shadows and light, reappearing in a squatting position beside Ellana's chair, his eyes level with hers as she gasped quietly.

“I missed you too,” he whispered in a confiding tone, placing one ghostly pale hand over her own.

Ellana perused his close features: his pale brows, the natural pout of his mouth, the striking clear blue of his eyes. She observed that while he might be more human, he still had the appearance of someone not quite of her world. She silently hoped that part of him would never change, that he would always remain _Cole_. The heat of his hand atop hers made her skin tingle pleasantly and she let the quill slip between her fingers. Cole chose to fill the vacancy the implement left, lacing his much longer fingers between her own, his other hand rising to fondle a long spiral of her hair with consuming concentration.

“If you two kids need some alone time, the wine and I can come back a little later.” Varric entered the room, eyeing Cole and Ellana with an intrigued grin.

Ellana jumped, withdrawing her hand in a panic and flushing a deep rose that reflected the sunset. Cole didn't seem to be bothered by Varric's words. Or her reaction to them. He simply stood, dropping her hair and draping one arm across his abdomen, the other hand raised to his chin in contemplation. He wore a small, satisfied smile.

“Speak for yourself, Varric. And the only place that wine will be going is into my cup.” Dorian moved into the room with what Ellana could only describe as a self-satisfied prance.

“Relax, Sparkler, there's plenty to go around,” Varric glanced at Dorian's look of smug superiority and chuckled, adding, “ _or_ we can send for more if there's not.” With that, Varric positioned the three cups he carried atop her small table by the sofa, and began pouring a dark burgundy liquid into each.

Dorian faced Ellana, one curled mustache corner rising as he reached for the first full glass, “Now. I believe I promised you a stern lecture... However, since I have managed to single-handedly determine an acceptable, non-lethal, alternative to your _plan_ – I use the term loosely – I might allow you to escape the worst of it.” Dorian took a sip of his wine and added, “we'll see where the wine takes me.”

“Before it takes you anywhere, why don't you delineate this superior plan of yours. I might need some convincing. And please bear in mind that my decision might depend less on survivability and more on whether or not I can still live with you if things go your way.” Ellana jibed, rising from behind her desk to move toward the sofa, silently grateful Dorian had missed Cole's intimacy with her. She could only imagine what her saucy Tevinter would have to say, especially considering his too-obviously high hopes for her and Cullen. Ellana sighed mentally, accepting a cup from Varric and sitting at the edge of the sofa furthest from the balcony.

Cole followed, perching lightly beside her atop the railing that ran the length of the stairwell. He had scrunched up his face at Dorian's use of “single-handedly” and was a bit late interjecting an almost defensive, “I helped.”

“Yes,” Dorian's eyes flickered over Cole lightly, “I suppose you _did_ follow research orders rather well.”

“Thank you. The books didn't mind helping.” Cole was content again, idly swinging his feet as he waited for the others to resume their conversation.

Dorian stared at Cole a moment, brows raised, then added, “I see. Quite. And after all, why should they?” He moved his amused gaze back to Ellana, “as for living with me, who wouldn't be thrilled at having the pleasure of my constant company?”

Varric laughed lightly under his breath, but restrained whatever quip he was about to unleash, shaking his head as he settled in beside Ellana on the sofa, his own brimming cup in hand.

“Yes, yes. You are magnificently handsome, charming and brilliant. The plan?” Ellana raised her delicate brows at Dorian, waiting for his explanation. She held her cup steady but had yet to take a sip. She rarely imbibed spirits of any kind, and since the night of their Skyhold dance, she had less desire for the stuff than usual.

“Well, as long as we are in agreement on the important points...” Dorian threw her a faux look of irritation before proceeding. “Illusion. The necromantic arts I wield, with immense skill and flair I might add, are the answer here. It occurred to me that if I can use spirits to terrorize my enemies, could I not also use those same skills to distract, or mislead, or outright trick individuals in a non-combative scenario.” Dorian was excited now, invigorated by his newly acquired knowledge and the possibilities such knowledge suggested.

His eyes twinkled as he continued. “After some research, I,” his eyes passed over Cole, “ _we_ were able to find a spell that allows the use of spirits to create a focused illusion. So the plan will work much the same way that you intended, however, you will not be stupidly endangering your life with a death essence. Instead, you will be slipped a sleeping potion, a potent one, but entirely safe. Simultaneously, I will cast said spell, noble busy bodies will _see_ you 'expire' before their very eyes and then run about to spread the news like the good little pawns they are. Meanwhile, you will remain safely in a hidden location, very much alive.” Dorian's voice rang with self-satisfaction as he added, “you are now free to applaud such an ingenious and benign bit of strategy.” He moved one hand before him as if awaiting an actual ovation, bowing slightly at the waist, his other hand bringing his wine cup beneath his perfectly manicured mustache.

“I have to say, Bolts, my vote goes for the plan that _doesn't_ involve you drinking the inky poison of doom.” Varric added, looking immensely relieved.

Ellana swished her cup, watching the dark liquid swirl as she considered Dorian's suggested alteration. “You've never attempted this spell before, correct? Can you guarantee it will work as you have described? I need certainty here, Dorian.”

“It will.” It was Cole that answered beside her left shoulder. His voice sounded so certain, she found it difficult to doubt him.

“Yes, thank you Cole.” Dorian didn't really look as though he appreciated Cole's interjection, despite his words. “I am sure, Ellana. This method will work and it will not endanger your life. I understand what is at stake here and I would not endanger your mission by claiming to be able to accomplish something I cannot.” Only when they touched on something that Dorian cared about deeply did he abandon his sparkling wit and speak soberly, as he did now. That told Ellana more clearly than words ever could just how much her friend cared for her.

Ellana grinned at him, placing in it all the love she had for her unexpected, showy Tevinter ally. “All right. You know I trust you completely.” Dorian's devilish grin returned immediately and she threw her unoccupied hand up at him and added, “uh, uh, uh… Don't make me regret letting you have your way.”

Dorian laughed, “I wouldn't possibly. I am just thankful that enough sense remains in that pretty little head of yours to recognize a superior alternative when it is presented to you.”

“So am I.” Varric chimed in, his grin spreading. “If we couldn't convince you, our back up plan was for Bull to tie you up and have Sera feed you cookies until you were feeling less suicidal. And trust me, nobody would walk away from that scenario undamaged.”

Ellana rolled her eyes at them both, but couldn't stifle a grin. Cole chuckled under his breath about something – she didn't know if it was Varric's words or something in Cole's head – but the sound instantly transported her to when he had let loose an identical laugh at the erotic image that popped into her head the night of the ball. She felt a shiver slide down her arms and the back of her neck, reminding her that she really needed to speak to Varric, but she couldn't do that with Cole in the room. Well, she could, but that would be more awkward embarrassment than Ellana could handle.

“Cole,” Ellana turned in her seat to look at his face before continuing, “would you mind letting the others know that we will meet again tomorrow before Vivienne departs in the morning and...” Ellana stopped, considering. “Don't mention the change in plans.”

Dorian and Varric both looked at her askance. She proceeded to explain. “Our plan is dependent upon our ability to convince the nobles… when Cass, Vivienne and any others present witness my 'demise' their concern needs to be genuine. I dislike deceiving them, but if they still believe that I have taken the altered Tears of the Dead potion, then their concern will be real enough. Worrying them is not something I will enjoy, but we will need every advantage...” Ellana felt guilty, but she couldn't deny the logic of such deception.

Dorian looked concerned but acquiesced, “I appreciate the strategic value, but just warn me before you tell them the full truth. I would like to make certain I'm somewhere I won't be accidentally hit by an arrow.”

“I'm with Dorian,” Varric grumbled into his cup of wine. “They will not be happy. But, it's your funeral, Bolts.” He chuckled again at his own wit.

She paused then, knowing it wouldn't take Cole hardly any time to accomplish that task. She couldn't bring herself to ask him for time alone with Varric to discuss his bizarre behavior and her baffled feelings. So she simply offered him an awkward, hopeful smile.

Cole looked into her face for an instant and then vanished from the railing.

“Well, I suppose we can assume he was willing.” Dorian drawled into his wine cup before taking a last swig and reaching to refill it. “Now, let's discuss whatever is going on between you and our favorite spirit boy with a penchant for asking soul-crushing questions.”

Ellana sighed audibly this time. She had hoped to have this conversation only with Varric. Solas would have been helpful as well. Of course, if it weren't for Solas, Cole wouldn't be experiencing this confusion with her in the first place. She tried to set aside both her irritation with Solas and her hesitancy to speak about her current bizarre predicament. She looked down at the liquid in her cup and had a sudden change of heart, downing the entire thing in one, long draft.

“Whoa Bolts! With your lack of tolerance, another pull like that and you won't be able to tell us where you are, much less what's going on with the kid.” Varric patted her shoulder lightly. “I'm here to help. Just lay it out for me.”

Ellana gave Varric a pathetic look and she thought she could already feel her tongue thickening from the rich, red, tart liquid. She held out her cup for a refill and he sighed and shook his head slightly in refusal.

Dorian, though, had no such qualms. “Pay no attention to our dwarven friend. This delicious medicine will free that timid tongue of yours... _Lana_.” Dorian emphasized Cole's new pet name for her as he poured.

“Ugh,” Ellana rubbed her face in her hand before taking another long drink. She decided to just lay it out as quickly and succinctly as possible. “He thinks he likes me. Loves me… I don't know. He's kissed me and things...”

“Kissed you? The kid?” Varric was absolutely giddy. “I knew it! I need to take the kid out and buy him a drink to celebrate!”

“Varric, this is serious.” The alcohol was already intensifying her sense of dramatic flair and the room shifted slightly out of sync with her head as she turned to face Varric. _Creators, I am such a lightweight._ “I'm afraid he's confused, that he's trying to fill in for Solas to heal my hurt. I'm afraid I'm going to corrupt him or something...” Ellana's voice trailed off.

Dorian, who had been standing perfectly still in what looked very much like astounded shock, suddenly burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. “You? You are afraid...” he gasped for air, struggling to catch his breath. “You are afraid _you_ are going to _corrupt_ Cole?” Dorian wiped away a tear of laughter from one corner of his eye, still giggling before sobering suddenly and jerking to look at her sharply, his eyes narrowing… “Wait. What do you mean by _things_?”

Ellana flushed bright red, and squirmed in her seat looking anywhere other than at her two friends.

“You did say 'kissed and _things_ ,' am I right? How far have _things_ gone, exactly?” Dorian had apparently forgotten the absurdity of Ellana corrupting anything or anyone and was beginning to panic about the ways in which a spirit-of-compassion-turning-human might corrupt _her_.

“Holy shit,” Varric breathed, staring at her in stunned silence with Dorian as they awaited the details of 'things.'

“No!” Ellana waved her free hand back and forth in unison with her head. “We haven't… I'm still… it's fine...” Ellana scrambled around her mind that was beginning to fog to try and find the right words to get out of this situation. “I just meant that he's been really affectionate. Intimate. Hand holding. Hugging. That sort of thing.” Ellana felt like her cheeks were on fire. She should have talked to Cassandra about this.

She had a brief image of Cassandra attempting to hack Cole in half for stealing Ellana's innocence. _Nope. I made the right call there._

“Andraste's sacred ass.” Varric swore again, still staring at her in disbelief. Then he finished off the wine in his cup with one long gulp and proceeded to reach for more, but found the bottle empty. “Shit,” he breathed again.

Dorian narrowed his eyes further as he stared at Ellana. “ _You_ are _lying_ . You. Ellana Lavellan. You are actually trying to _lie to us_ . I feel like I've been ripped into an alternate dimension!” Dorian was having difficulty coming to grips with whatever he was imagining. He moved to stand directly in front of her. “What did he _do_ to you?”

“Sparkler, take it easy.” Varric seemed to be overcoming his shock some. He turned away from the empty wine bottle and looked into Ellana's face. “Bolts, just tell me this: how do you feel about the kid? That's the thing that really matters here.”

“I...” Ellana struggled with her confusion. “I miss him when he's gone,” she admitted quietly. “But,” she started again in a pain-filled tone, “I can't bear the thought that I might hurt him.”

Varric abruptly chuckled beside her, the sounds a deep, scratchy rumbling in his chest. “I think I understand, Bolts,” he patted her free hand and gave her a grin that said he had a delicious secret.

Ellana was utterly bewildered by his sudden change in demeanor. Was no one else concerned for Cole's well-being?

“Oh, for the love of...” Dorian was seriously flustered as he examined Varric and Ellana. He straightened himself and snapped to draw Ellana's full – albeit slowing dramatically – attention. “This is insanity,” he huffed at her, mustache twitching in frustration. “Here's an idea: Why don't you worry a little less about Cole being corrupted and a little more about your distraught commander?”

Ellana was apparently doomed to a life of confusion, she supposed, “Cullen? What about Cullen?”

“' _What about Cullen?_ '” Dorian threw up one hand in vexation.

“Lana said no more matchmaking.” Cole was standing at the top of the stairs, a scowl directed toward one seriously flustered Tevinter mage.

Varric made a choking sound next to Ellana before covering his mouth to hide his mirth.

Ellana simply stared at Cole through a slight haze. _He's beautiful,_ she thought with a dreamy sort of expression. It only lasted a moment and then Ellana physically slapped herself this time, a soft pop to one cheek with her free hand, surprising everyone and drawing all eyes to her. She inhaled deeply and then drained the liquid that remained in her cup. _Fenedhis_ _lasa_ _!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. So much so, that I'm considering making the next chapter a sober-Cole-puts-a-drunken-Lana-to-bed sidebar. I'll try to restrain myself to stay on course. We'll see how it goes. :) Thanks for putting up with my whims of fancy.


	18. Inebriation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana is a lot more honest about her feelings with a little too much wine in her.  
> Sweet fluff. Please protect your teeth, because this is about to get a bit syrupy. I know I just posted yesterday, but I couldn't help myself after all.

Ellana swayed slightly as she sat on her sofa, three pairs of eyes locked on her in surprise. Her face was ruddy now from embarrassment and wine, slightly more so on the cheek that held the barely discernible print of one small hand.

“What in Thedas was _that_ for?” Dorian's expression exuded his thoughts so well, she could practically read him thinking she was losing her sanity. She greatly respected his restraint in not saying it aloud.

Cole ignored Dorian, grinning from ear to ear as he poofed from the top of the stairwell to reappear squatting beside Ellana, one cool, long-fingered hand soothing the angry mark on her cheek. “She was thinking-”

“Stop!” Ellana's eyes were reminiscent of those of a terrified, pursued halla as she turned her slightly foggy vision on Cole's pallid, smiling visage, raising her free hand to press two of her fingers awkwardly against Cole's lips to physically stop them from moving. Cole used his other hand to hold the fingers firmly to his lips and kiss them lightly before blinding her with a toothy smile. She had never seen a look of such unfettered glee.

Ellana made a high-pitched, squeaking noise and she felt the tips of her ears try to burn off. She moved her head in one, excessively sharp movement to stare in desperation at her empty cup. “Varric.”

Varric tried to smother his grin, failing fabulously. “Yes, Bolts?”

Ellana focused exclusively, determinedly on her empty cup and Cole loosed her face and hand, still hovering in a comfortable squat beside the sofa, his grin remaining, his eyes never leaving her. She exhaled dramatically before continuing. “I seem to vaguely recall something about there being plenty of alcohol. I think the present state of things might make you a liar.” She absolutely refused to look up from her cup.

“Well, I guess it's a good thing I can remedy that situation. Also, I prefer to think of what I do as more, _creative embellishment_...” He winked at her fruitlessly, as her vision was fixed on the barren cup in her lap. He paused for just a second, seeing if he could get her attention but then chuckled to himself and abandoned the sofa. “You will be flush with wine momentarily, as promised.”

“I agree, Ellana. There is a pronounced want of wine, despite promises made, and I am in desperate need of drowning myself in some at this very moment.” Dorian snipped in irritation as he stared at Cole who stared at Ellana who was staring at the absolute nothing in her cup. He made a frustrated sound and flailed one hand in irritation before announcing his departure. “That's it! You are obviously not equipped to discus _things_ at the moment. I, therefore, will go to the Herald's Rest and attempt to forget the last five minutes of discussion ever occurred. Until tomorrow. Then, you and I will sit down and have a very serious, quite sober discussion. About _things_.” The pique in Dorian's voice was palpable, but Ellana doggedly maintained her visual lock on her cup. She heard him go down the steps behind Varric in miffed, exaggerated strides.

“ _How_ can you encourage this...” She heard Dorian begin speaking to Varric as the door closed behind them.

Cole remained in his squatting position beside her, but Ellana refused to look at him. In her slight inebriation, she wondered if her ears were still pointed or if the heat of her humiliation had actually melted them to round. _He heard me._ Ellana groaned audibly. _He can probably hear me now._ She allowed her forehead to smack softly into the rim of her desolate cup.

Cole let out a soft giggle beside her and Ellana tried to figure out a way she could hide her entire head in her small container just as a knock sounded at her bedroom door. Ellana jerked up, thankful that Varric was back, but wondering why he had knocked. She jumped up, steadying herself slightly as she stood, and took her cup with her as she headed carefully down the steps. She only saw Cole in her periphery, but he was still sporting an amused, gleeful grin. _Shit._

Reaching the door she opened it wide and looked down for Varric's grin, only to see a servant's midsection. Her eyes followed the form up to find a young, bearded, human servant grasping a bottle of wine.

“You're not Varric,” Ellana accused, ever astute.

“No, Your Ladyship. Master Tethras asked that I bring you this and sends his apologies that he won't be able to return this evening. He said to tell you...” the man looked around a bit awkwardly before continuing, “...to tell you to 'enjoy some time alone with the kid' and he said to give you this as well.” He pulled a copy of Swords and Shields from the pouch at his side. The copy with _the armory wall scene_.

“That. Is _one_ . _Dead_ . _Dwarf_ ,” Ellana exhaled in disbelief.

“I-I'm sorry, Your Ladyship!” The man in front of her looked as though he thought she might incinerate him where he stood.

Ellana tried to focus on the person in front of her and softened her look of tipsy fury. “Please, don't apologize. You've done nothing wrong. Thank you for delivering...” Ellana took the book and held it against her with one arm, using her free hand to hold the full bottle of wine, “his message.” She looked as though she had just swallowed something unpleasant but the man seemed relieved as he turned to leave. Ellana used one hip to close the door, turning to face the stairs. The terrible, treacherous stairs that led to Cole. Cole in her bedroom. Cole who knew that she missed him. Cole who knew that she found him _beautiful_.

Ellana swore again under her breath and then moved as quickly as she could up the steps, weaving slightly from one side to the other as she went. Tossing the book on the couch, she wasted no time in opening the bottle and refilling her cup. She gulped down her third cup with vigor and immediately poured a fourth. She figured unconsciousness was her only way out at this point.

She brought the cup to her lips again, determined to swallow the next round with equal fervor when long, slender fingers covered the opening of the cup, stopping her abruptly.

“You'll be sick, Lana.” Cole was beside her, so close her breath ruffled the hair that touched his shoulder as she looked up at him, mortified by the entire situation. His voice was low and raspy, but his eyes twinkled happily and he still had an odd smile on his face. He gently took the cup from her fingers and set it down on the table. His eyes found the book on the couch before returning his gaze to her, his eyes suddenly a bit darker.

Ellana's attention was fully on him now. _No_ , she thought. But she couldn't help but look at him. The room blurred pleasantly in the waning light as she studied his every feature in detail. The full pout of his bottom lip, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his nose turned up ever-so-slightly at the tip, the way his large, bright eyes glowed at her from beneath his unruly, lilting bangs – it all worked together to steal her breath. Suddenly, the only thing she wanted in the world was to touch his face. _No, no, no!_ Ellana chided herself amid her mental fog, taking a step back, instinctively moving herself out of reach of what she knew she shouldn't want. Her legs were as unsteady as her thoughts.

“It's okay.” Cole said, reaching out and drawing her back toward him. “You can touch my face.” His voice was the absolute embodiment of sincerity.

Ellana's eyelids expanded for a fleeting moment before the wine weighed them down again. Her whole body felt heavy and she thought about how unpleasant it would be to smack her ass on the hard stone of the floor when her legs gave way.

Cole bent slightly and lifted her like he would a sack of fluff. His eyes watched her intently as he carried her to her bed and sat her down gently on the edge. Ellana's hands gripped the coverlet anxiously as she stared up at him, her pulse racing as dappled images of Cole in her bed slipped and slid through her stupefied, sluggish mind. She closed her eyes to stop the room from the slow shift it had begun and to chase away the memories of Cole's hands on her.

When she opened her eyes again, Cole was squatting directly in front of her. His tone was scolding, “you shouldn't drink so much. You're too small, not like The Iron Bull, it sinks in, sedates, sickens. You won't feel good in the morning.” He brought his hands up, using his slender fingers to undo the buttons of her sleeveless tunic.

Ellana balked. “Cole? What are you doing?” Her voice was high and airy, a panicky whisper.

“You need to sleep,” Cole's tone was matter-of-fact. “You like to sleep naked.”

_Creators_. Ellana swallowed, but couldn't find the strength, or possibly the will, to stop his advancing fingers. She flatly refused to think about which.

Cole finished with her buttons and pulled the top over her shoulders and down her arms slowly, his fingers trailing behind the fabric languidly against her skin. Next he removed her breast-binding; Ellana kept her eyes tightly closed, only feeling his fingers against her skin. She thought she felt the lick of lightning where he touched her, and she worried for a second that she was drunk-casting. She looked up at Cole's face, but he seemed unharmed, his attention rapt on her half-exposed form.

Ellana turned a shade darker in the twilight room and found the strength to cover herself with her arms.

Cole gave her a questioning look, but didn't speak. Instead he pressed her shoulders lightly, and she fell back with forceful abandon, he then worked to remove her leggings and footwraps and undergarments. Ellana stared at her ceiling and wondered why she was allowing him to undress her. She still felt as though the keep was moving around her.

When she was completely naked, Cole lifted her again, holding her to him while he pulled the coverlet back. He then gently placed her on the bed and covered her. He moved onto the bed beside her then, stretching out so that he could look at her. Ellana felt the warmth of his form emanating through the covers. She was suddenly, strangely disappointed.

Her lulling thoughts roamed and she wondered why he didn't want to 'try' again.

Cole gave her a small smile in the dark of the room. “The wine would make you wish we hadn't. It clouds and confuses.” His voice held promise when he spoke again. “I can learn more when you are clear.”

“Oh.” Ellana said, and she sounded disappointed, even to herself. _Creators, what is wrong with me?_

Cole stayed still beside her, watching her face intently, one hand supporting his head. She wasn't sure how long she stayed there, perfectly still. She examined his features intently, again wishing that she could touch him, but feeling that she shouldn't.

Cole moved the arm that wasn't supporting his head and grasped one of her small hands and held it to his cheek. After a second he released it, and she let it linger there of her own accord. She brushed her fingertips lightly across his cheek, over his eyes, down his nose and then over his lips.

“I like your mouth,” Ellana whispered. Everything was encompassed within a thick fog now and she felt heavy, as though she wasn't real. She didn't feel embarrassed. There was nothing to be embarrassed about if it wasn't real.

“Thank you.” Hazy, unreal Cole replied softly.

“I feel safe when you are with me.” Ellana felt compelled to confess everything to the glowing, shifting, faux Cole beside her. She couldn't think of a reason not too.

“I am glad.” Unreal Cole smiled at her.

“I miss you when you aren't with me.” Ellana said, slurring and a little sad. Her hand had moved and was playing with a lock of his wavy hair near his neck.

“That makes me happy!” The glowing, fuzzy Cole said with hushed fervor. “I want to stay with you all the time, forever. Is that alright?” Unreal Cole was being very sweet and sincere.

“It can't be. I'm afraid I'll hurt you. I would never forgive myself if I hurt you...” Ellana dropped her hand and suddenly felt a bit like crying.

Cole encircled her upper body and gently pressed her head to his shoulder. He began rubbing his fingers soothingly against Ellana's scalp. “You are just confused. You have a tangle of fear and hurt in your head. We'll untangle it later. Sleep now, Lana.”

Ellana felt his words vibrate in his chest against her cheek and his fingers swishing softly in her hair. She yawned and the world around her dimmed, moving quickly toward the abyss of slumber. She squeezed herself to him tightly and smiled against his tunic, murmuring low into his chest. “I love you.”

Cole's fingers stilled and he inhaled sharply. It was a moment before his fingertips resumed their work as he listened to the steady, rhythmic breaths of sleep releasing softly from Ellana.

“I love you too, Lana,” he whispered into the dark and still of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Ellana is tangled in a knot of guilt and fear and misconceptions and social niceties. And I just can't see Cole taking advantage of her in a compromised state, not in a million years. Although, I'm not sure how much longer Cole will be able to tolerate her lying to herself. It must be incredibly frustrating. And, this does make me miss scary, dangerous Cole quite a bit...


	19. Soiree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana attends an Orlesian dinner party.

 

Intricately etched and embellished masks glinted in the candlelight of Vivienne's immaculate salon, a dizzying spectacle of glittering gems, glinting metals and piercing smiles. Ellana moved through the showy crowd unmasked, adorned in another Dalish and Orlesian hybrid gown, the latest creation of Vivienne's seamstress. It clung to her in hues of gold, amber and a deep burnished orange that reminded her of autumn foliage. The gown was beautiful and revealing and Ellana's nervousness and embarrassment melded in her core with trepidation about the evening's plan.

An elven servant silently offered her libations and stared at her with awed, over-large green eyes behind a modest half mask. The mask was strongly reminiscent of the much more elaborate one that Vivienne herself wore. Ellana refused politely. She hadn't imbibed anything fermented since she had woken up in her bed, naked and laced in Cole's arms, his cool, clear eyes staring at her in wonder. That had been over a week ago.

Since that time she had done everything in her considerable power to occupy her time. She completed every administrative task that had awaited her attention for months, busying herself and avoiding all; she hadn't trusted herself not to disclose every detail about the plan to those who were unaware of the alteration, nor did she trust herself not to divulge any more information concerning her feelings for Cole to those who were fully aware of the plan. So she busied herself alone. She had taken extra care in avoiding Cole and Cullen.

Cullen had been clearly irritated by both the danger of her plan and Cole's familiarity, but she simply met any attempt at personal questions with questions of her own that required responses concerning troop movements, recruitment and fortifications. He had been visibly nettled with her, but the closer the time came for her to place herself in what he believed to be great danger, that irritation had morphed into constant, hovering concern. Still, she refused to discuss anything other than the business of the Inquisition, neatly side-stepping the change in tonight's plan known only to Varric, Dorian and Cole. She examined her handsome commander where he stood, overwhelmed by the unwelcome attentions of Orlesian noble men and women.

There would be time for discussions once tonight's deception found fruition. Too much time, as she remained hidden in the small room they had chosen.

As for Cole… Ellana sighed inwardly, the raw pain in her chest twisting at the thought of him. She had refused to speak with him about anything more complex than simple errands. He had stayed with her at first, watching and waiting, completely unflustered by her aloof behavior. He even appeared happy, smiling to himself as he watched her work, legs swinging against the railing above her bed. For days he seemed content to simply wait for her to reply to letters or speak about some noble's concerns with Josephine. He appeared particularly pleased with her refusal to speak with Cullen about anything of a personal nature. But as the days passed, his contentment transformed to worry and from worry to what appeared to be anger.

It had taken every ounce of will she possessed not to drop everything and cling to him. She couldn't remember the last moments of her time with Cole in her drunken abandon, but she did remember touching his face and confessing that she missed him and _liked his mouth_. Ellana felt certain that she had let him see more than she ever intended, perhaps more than she was willing to admit even to herself. She had decided then that she would not allow herself to hurt him, no matter the consequences to her. No weakness on her part would endanger him further. Period. She would live out her life in utter solitude, if necessary.

Ellana nodded and offered a hollow smile to a noblewoman as she passed, her eyes searching for Cole now among the shimmering gowns and masks. She hadn't seen him since they arrived at Vivienne's estate, a parting gift from her late Duke Bastien de Ghyslain. Confusion racked Ellana like a physical torment. She felt she had to separate herself from Cole for his sake, but at the same time, she wanted him with her. It was cruel and selfish and she felt it completely. Her brows furrowed as her search for silvery hair and liquid blue eyes continued in futility. Panic began to coalesce into a knot at the base of her throat and choke the air from her. _What if he's gone?_ _What if I never see Cole again?_

Ellana turned suddenly in the opposite direction, feeling frantic, only to bump softly into an intricately woven tunic the color of old gold, ornamented with golden threads that bore great similarity to the patterns adorning her own gown.

“Oh!” Ellana looked up, prepared to apologize, only to find Cole, wavy hair full and shimmering around his face, a warm gold in the candlelight. “Cole...” Ellana breathed in absolute relief.

The muscle in Cole's jaw twitched, giving his intense look a terrifying quality, his eyes were bright and narrowed and she knew that no matter whatever else he might feel, he was extremely angry. With _her_. She swallowed slowly to quell the rising knot in her throat.

“What do you think, Bolts?” Varric appeared beside Cole, wine glass in hand and trouble-inciting grin at the ready.

“What?” Ellana couldn't look away from Cole. She was too frightened of what the consequences might be. What happened to sweet, grinning Cole from a week earlier? _You pushed him away, Ellana_ , she scolded herself.

“Cole's ensemble? Pretty sharp, don't you think? I managed to get my hands on Vivienne's seamstress. Granted, some chest hair would improve the look, but hey, not everyone can have my good fortune.” Varric's eyes narrowed as he looked back and forth between a too angry Cole and a seriously disturbed Ellana. “You two going to be okay? I'll admit I might have gone a bit far with the matching outfit...”

Varric stopped, turning suddenly serious, his tone chastising. “Look, I'm not sure what happened a week ago, but I think it's time you two kids talk this out.”

A bell rang somewhere further inside the estate and people began to move towards the dining hall, mostly servants. After all, it was only the first bell.

“Show time, Bolts,” Varric whispered under his breath and offered her a reassuring smile. Varric headed in the direction of the dining hall.

Ellana was frozen. She watched as Cole's brows twitched and his lips pursed slightly as though he was about to speak but then he stopped, looking infinitely frustrated. He raised one hand and touched her lightly on one cheek and then turned abruptly to follow Varric.

Ellana swallowed and let out an unsteady sigh, suddenly concerned that she had completely mishandled things with Cole. Again. _No. This was best for him._ She closed her eyes and concentrated on the murmuring of the crowd that drifted sluggishly in the direction of dinner. _Focus, Ellana._

She scanned the hall and found Dorian, gloriously regaled in rich purples and burgundies. She moved straight to him. “Ready?” It was all she could muster.

“Ah, so _now_ you wish to speak with me, and only after a week of pretending I don't exist.” Dorian's mood was acerbic, his tone biting.

Ellana scowled at him in return. “Don't be ridiculous, I've talked to you several times over the last week.”

“Not about anything of substance. Certainly not about _things_.” He was practically pouting.

“Dorian...”

He shook his head. “No matter,” he lowered his voice so that only she could hear, “there will be no escaping in the week to come.” He raised one brow and gave her a threatening smile, resuming his normal volume, “Oh, yes, discussions of great and significant things will be had. It will be delightful. Just you wrap your lovely little head around that.”

Ellana had a few ideas about how to delay the inevitable. She gave him a flat look. “And tonight's dinner?”

“Ah yes, I expect dinner to be delicious and rife with exciting conversation. There is not a single doubt in my mind that Vivienne's first soiree back will be on the lips of Orlesians for years to come.” His face was full of smug certainty.

The second bell chimed, the sound ringing against the walls of white and gold, fluted accents.

Ellana turned and headed directly toward the dining hall, ignoring the whispers slipping smoothly from beneath masks. She had heard the word “Bandemer” more than once during the evening. She straightened her spine and continued, steeling herself for what was about to come and silently praying for Mythal's blessing.

The metered rush to be seated for dinner had begun in earnest now, none in attendance wishing to disgrace themselves by being still in the main gallery by the time the third bell sounded. Even so, lords and ladies alike parted for Ellana and she smiled and nodded to them as she went through. The dining hall was extremely modest in comparison to the one she had encountered at the winter palace, only large enough to accommodate two unusually lengthy tables and various white-marble-topped buffets to be used by the servants.

Ellana sought Vivienne and found her, absolutely regal in her royal sea silk attire, near a buffet toward the head of the nearest table. Vivienne made a small gesture to entice Ellana to the seat beside her, a position of honor, the head of the first table. Ellana complied, sweeping softly through candlelight and greeting Vivienne with warmth.

“Everything is absolute perfection, Vivienne. Thank you.” Ellana meant her words. For all of their differences, she greatly respected Vivienne's intellect and unbreakable poise. Vivienne was a master of the Grand Game; even if Ellana disliked playing, she had to admire Vivienne's skill.

“No, thank _you_ , my darling. I am delighted that you could attend my modest soiree.” Vivienne's face gave away nothing. “Please, have a seat in the only rightful place for the Inquisitor, our Herald of Andraste.”

Several nearby nobles murmured in approval, a few nodding their encouragement that Ellana proceed as suggested.

“It is a great honor, Lady Vivienne.” Ellana placed herself in the overly large and excessively ornate chair. The rest of the room followed suit, filling the space with the sound of wood against marble and silks being pressed into the confines of a seated position.

The entirety of her inner circle was present, excluding Bull and Sera. Bull and a handful of Chargers monitored their underground route to the room beneath the city that would hold her in seclusion after this evening. There was a labyrinth of old tunnels beneath much of the area, remnants of a time long past. Sera occupied the room itself, waiting for the delivery of one unconscious Ellana. Vivienne, Leliana, Cullen, Cassandra and Blackwall sat very near her. She searched the room to find Cole and Varric at the end of the table nearest the exit. _Good._ They would be relieving Sera, the first to keep her company during her self-imposed exile. Dorian was at the end of the opposite table, chatting casually with a young nobleman of impeccable taste. Ellana couldn't squelch a half-smile, _let's not allow deception and intrigue_ _to_ _get in the way of flirting._

Servants, elven to the last one, entered with their first course and the evening's meal began in earnest. Conversation swelled and Ellana did her part, conversing politely with the Lady Dowager who sat to her right. Ellana was grateful for the placement; if she must engage in small talk while her nerves frayed with waiting, she would rather it consist of detailed, slightly comical descriptions of that ladies numerous previous husbands.

A wave of appreciative “ohs” cascaded across the room as servants brought in the sumptuous second course. Ellana exchanged glances with Leliana, beautiful as ever as she charmed her neighbor, her head dipping slightly to let Ellana know that it was time. Her dining partner mistook Leliana's nod for a gesture of sympathy and their discussion continued uninterrupted. Ellana had provided Leliana with the potion to relay to Zevran, the altered Tears of the Dead potion tucked safely away behind a book on one of the shelves in her room.

Ellana watched as a particularly graceful, masked elf approached, perfect smile appropriately subdued.

She deliberately paid him little attention as she accepted Zevran's glass. _This is it. Mythal be with us._ Ellana's eyes met Dorian's and she put the cup to her lips, taking a long, slow draw. It wasn't more than a minute before the room began to move of it's own accord and her breathing grew heavy.

“Are you quite well, Inquisitor?” the Dowager's voice held a note of mild alarm.

“I just...” Ellana began but couldn't quite force enough air through her lungs to finish her sentence. She had no pain, but in her mind the seeds of doubt and panic flourished, their black tendrils casting fretful shadows over every carefully prepared step. Could she truly trust the charming assassin? Perhaps he would collect his fee from the contractor for a job truly well done.

Ellana's head lulled forward and the lurch forced her small hands to jar the setting before her, her plate clanging loudly against her cup, and spilling the tainted liquid across the table.

“Inquisitor!” She heard Cassandra's voice, full of panic, just as Ellana had anticipated. Even now, unable to hold her head aloft, the guilt of the deception stung supreme. Ellana felt the hum and snap of the veil around her. Though she couldn't see what was happening, she knew that Dorian was casting now that all attention was drawn to her prostrate form.

A woman's piercing scream echoed around the room, striking up a cacophonous panic that sounded like a shrill buzzing in Ellana's ears. She felt herself fall to the side, and made out the voices of her companions calling her name. Cullen's voice was in her ear, filled with horror, but she couldn't see his face. Amid the black and the screams she heard a piercingly high voice with a thick Orlesian accent shriek, “she's dead! The Inquisitor is dead!” A veritable stampede of footsteps thudded around her and away as men and women alike screeched in their attempt to escape the gruesome scene, and perhaps suspicion, while still others called for guards.

Ellana felt at that moment she might fall into the black forever. She couldn't see, but she could sense the tingling of the veil and it made her think of Cole. She saw his face in the pitch of her mind and she could feel hot tears on her unnaturally cool face, evidence of her profound sense of loss, before the world vanished into the black of oblivion.

 

* * *

 

And I am so happy to include this beautiful artwork of my Ellana and Cole by [TheChampion04](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheChampion04) entitled "I Can Heal Your Hurt." *makes indiscernible fangirl noises*

You can find more of her artwork here: http://clarice04.deviantart.com/

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if Ellana survives this, she is going to have plenty of time to work things out with Cole, whether she wants to or not. Silly, frightened girl.
> 
> Thank you so much for all of your encouragement, you beautiful, kind people. :) I am thankful for each and every one of you.


	20. More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana and Cole come to an understanding.

Ellana heard low, strained voices echo quietly in what sounded like a mountain cavern. Dust and damp permeated the air and a steady tick of liquid dripping against stone pulsed in the background. Briefly, she feared she might be beneath Haven again and all the fear of that battle with Corypheus cascaded back to her. Then she recognized the voices and the panic ebbed.

“What do you mean she was never in any danger? And I warn you, dwarf, I am not in the mood for your fanciful tales.” Cassandra's voice hissed somewhere near her feet.

“Whoa, Seeker, I'm not the one in charge. If you want to skewer someone, take it up with Bolts. Besides, you really think I enjoy seeing you worry?” Varric's voice was a little too sincere and he worked to correct himself. “After all, you worry and random, innocent dwarves practically get castrated. It isn't pretty.” Even to Ellana's dim mind, he did a poor job of backpedaling from his clear concern for the warrior.

“She's waking up.” Cole spoke beside her head and Ellana's heart leaped back to life.

Gradually, golden slits opened allowing Ellana to take in her musty surroundings through a haze of grogginess. She was in a small, square room, lying in an even smaller bed. The space was full with minimal furnishings, containing only the bed, two chairs and a small table, all lit by a meager handful of candles. At least, Ellana noted, Sera had piled the bed with random silk pillows and throws. The stonework that encased the area was dappled with moss where the walls wept. Ellana recognized the humble space she had chosen by description alone – Sera had been the one to learn of it and suggest its use. It was a bit miserable, but she couldn't argue that it was the last place anyone would think to look for the Inquisitor.

“Ellana? Are you alright? Can you speak?” Cassandra had pushed Cole out of the way and was hovering over her.

“You aren't supposed to be here.” Ellana whispered through her dry, unused throat, but managed a half smile to soften her words.

“I tried to tell her,” Varric sighed.

“I had to… I wasn't certain,” Cassandra's face was racked with concern but shifted to mild skepticism before she added, “I thought the potion would keep you unconscious longer than a couple of hours.” Her look was accusatory as she realized that Varric had been telling the truth after all.

Cole handed Ellana a cup of water and she downed it, closing her eyes for a moment and savoring the feel of it.

“I'm sorry, Cass. When Dorian found an alternative… I thought it would be more convincing if most of you believed I was truly in danger.” She offered Cassandra a look of apology.

Cassandra wasn't ready to accept. “We can discuss this tomorrow when I arrive for my shift.” Her tone was short.

“No,” Ellana said without any force. “I've decided to make an additional change.” Varric and Cassandra looked at her, expectant and somewhat incredulous. Cole's face was devoid of any discernible emotion. She ignored all three, playing lightly with a golden embellishment on the autumn gown she still wore as her head cleared. “It's too risky to have that many of you take shifts. It will be more trying this way, but I believe only one person should remain here for the duration and one should return every two days with supplies until it is time to move.”

“I will stay.” Cole's voice was low and certain. It wasn't an offer or a request, but rather a simple statement of fact.

Varric chuckled lightly but managed to stifle his grin, mostly because Cassandra was scowling at him.

Ellana looked at Cole, still in gold as well and she knew she should send him away, but she couldn't bring herself to say the words. She rationalized that he was deadly and had remarkable, otherworldly skills of stealth – the obvious correct choice. She knew that wasn't the totality, but she shoved that aside, determined that it was a moot point. She had made her decision and she would need to be able to be near him without… wanting him. She reasoned that she might as well begin now.

Ellana let out a shuttered sigh. “Yes, I think that is best.” She turned to look at Cassandra and Varric. “Sera can be our eyes and ears. She's stealthy and will blend in with the multitude of elven servants, allowing her to come and go with greater ease.”

Cassandra made an unhappy sound but couldn't deny Ellana's logic.

“How…” Ellana paused searching for the right words. “Did it work? Did they believe our ruse?” Ellana asked, hopeful.

“Yes. Vivienne and Leliana together are a difficult force to deny. The dinner was chaos. Even _I_ believed you had died. It was… awful.” Cassandra looked distraught again.

“Good,” Ellana took Cassandra's much larger hand in her own and squeezed lightly. “This is what we wanted, and I am fine.” She smiled at her friend and hoped that it comforted her. Ellana realized just how effective Dorian's illusion must have been.

“Congratulations, Bolts, all of Thedas is in mourning. You really know how to take the fun out of a party.” Varric gave Ellana a warm look. He gestured toward a sack on the tiny table. “There's a change of clothes, food rations, water and wine. I put a book in there too, just in case the wait becomes more than you can handle.” Varric glanced at Cole, grinning, “although, that seems like it might be less of an issue now.”

Cassandra bristled, “what are you on about now, Varric?” Her gaze moved from Varric to bounce between Cole and Ellana with suspicion.

“Aww, Seeker, I think you've read enough of my romance serial to figure that out on your own, but I'd be happy to go into further detail on our way out.” Varric's grin had turned licentious.

Cassandra flushed a shade darker in the low light, and gave Ellana a concerned look. “Are you sure about this? I could stay with you.” She eyed Cole warily.

“I'm sure, and you two should get going before you are missed.” Ellana smiled, attempting to hide her rising anxiety at the thought of being alone with Cole.

Cassandra rose and Varric grinned at her as they exited a door comprised of bits of rotting wood held in approximate shape by several large bands of rusted iron and entered the black of the corridor.

Ellana lay still for several minutes, listening to her friends' footsteps diminish, leaving a tense silence. She swallowed and sat up, stretching her stiff muscles and swinging her legs over the side of the bed, her gown swishing in the silence, all the while carefully avoiding Cole's eyes. She had no idea what to say to him.

“You've been hiding from me.” His tone managed to mesh hurt, disappointment and anger seamlessly.

_Right to it, then_. Ellana stood and faced him. She was a mere few feet away from him in the enclosed, minimal and musty space with Cole at the foot of the bed and Ellana standing near its head.

“I… yes.” Not only would lying to Cole be a fruitless endeavor, she simply wasn't capable of attempting it.

“That makes me angry. It hurts.” Cole kept his voice low.

Ellana felt as though he had slapped her. The whole point was to _not_ hurt him. How could she make him understand? “I didn't do it to hurt you or make you angry. I'm trying to _protect_ you.” Her voice had a pleading tone in her desire to make him understand. She searched his face, hoping that he would suddenly fully comprehend her concern and give up pressing the issue. His stern face made it clear that he would not.

“Yes. And yourself, but you don't need to. Running, rejecting the things you want. _You have to stop_.” Cole's voice was a terse, abrasive sound that was scolding and concerned all at once. He moved, taking one lithe step toward her and Ellana moved backward in response. His head was at a low angle, one she recognized well, despite his missing hat. Ellana's pulse raced with her rising anxiety. Perhaps this had been a mistake.

“Cole, what we've done… that can't happen anymore. It's a mistake.” Pain pressed in her chest with the words and colored her quiet voice.

“No.” Cole's tone was a rigid reflection of the stone under her feet. His eyes peered at her through his still hair and the muscle in his jaw picked up its pace.

She licked her lips, her heightened emotions drying her mouth and punishing her heart with a rapid thudding that echoed in her ears. She stepped back a few more times, until she felt stone against her arm. Still, she attempted to press away from him in the tiny space, her back shivering against the cold and damp that permeated the silk of her gown and the pale skin of her bare shoulders, as she watched Cole with apprehension. She wasn't sure what frightened her more, what he might do or what she _wanted_ him to do.

Cole's gaze moved from her eyes and focused instead on her mouth as he moved closer. He stopped when he was a few inches away from her, much too close, but far enough away that she could look up into his face.

She felt like a cornered animal, the hunter looming in before her with lethal grace. Her panicked thoughts skittered through her mind without restraint and she closed her eyes and physically shook her head. She was thrilled by his nearness, his intensity, she _wanted_ him to touch her, she _wanted_ to touch him. Cole. Silvery-haired, terrifying, truthful, kind, amazing, lethal, compassionate _Cole_ . She was horrified by her own weakness. _This is all a misunderstanding. He doesn't want you that way. He's confused._ _You're confused._

“No, no! You're _wrong_!” Cole's words rang louder now, hanging heavy in the still of the close room.

Ellana's eyes snapped open at the sound. The soft light of the few candles drew mysterious, softly shifting shadows around the windowless room. It gave the impression that the space they were in wasn't quite real. Except for Cole. His scowl sent a tremor through her. He raised his hands abruptly and firmly held her face, forcing her to look at his daunting, penetrating expression.

Ellana was certain that he was real.

“You twist and turn in your mind, trying to keep me tied to what I was, but I am _more_ now. I _understand_ more. I _feel_ more. I _want_ more.” His hands held her head in place and he lowered his mouth to hers, the connection there instantly sending a surge through her, lowering her lids and filling her with warmth. She felt bereft when Cole pulled away from her again.

Ellana tried to stand her ground, determined not to lose Cole the way she had lost Solas. She wouldn't hurt him. She wouldn't be hurt again. This was all madness. “You want to _help_ me. You had no interest in Candy. Or anybody. Sexually.” She blushed profusely in the dim light. “You _said_ so.” Ellana argued, even more stubborn in her state of intensified awareness.

“Yes. I want to help. Help you. Help myself.” Cole's brows drew together in concentration as he searched for the words that would make her understand. “I wanted to help Marguerite's hurt. Nothing more.” His frown deepened, “I want to heal your hurt, but I want _more_.”

Ellana's golden eyes held his with intensity as she tried to focus through the haze of confusion and guilt and fear and want. “How can you be sure?” She struggled to find the right question. “How do you know this is different?”

Cole frowned at her. “I want to know you the way Blackwall knows Josephine. I want to touch you the way The Iron Bull used to touch the red-headed serving girl. I want to be near you and keep you safe, the way Varric wanted to protect Bianca.”

His thumbs stroked her cheeks gently, his frown was replaced by a look of longing. “I want. I watch. I wait. Only for _you,_ Lana.”

“You do?” Ellana's breathing was erratic now and her hands had moved from the stones of the wall to rest against his chest. She felt as though her entire body was humming with some new magic.

“Yes.” Cole's breathing had picked up as well and his face was closer to her, his eyelids weighty with undisguised desire.

She felt as though she was in a dream, her body heavy and hypersensitive to every small movement Cole made. She lifted her hands, allowing her fingers to explore Cole's face, caressing his features with both her eyes and her fingertips. She was overwhelmed by how much she wanted him, how her body practically vibrated with the need to feel him. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around him and let him do anything he wanted. She wanted to hold him and never let go. _No_. How could she? How could she risk it? Risk Cole? Ellana's eyes filled with hot tears held in check by her lashes and her resolute will, her brow creasing with her conflicting thoughts and emotions.

“We can't.” Ellana forced her hands to stop touching him.

Cole's look turned from concern to one of absolute frustration and he let go of her abruptly, stepping away.

“I can _hear you!_ ” Cole yelled in miserable disquiet, fists clenched at his sides. The sound echoed again and again around her against the ancient stone. His eyes glowed lightest blue through narrow slits and he took one demanding step towards her again before he reiterated her own thoughts aloud to her, “ _I want him… I need to feel him…_ You want me to _do anything I want._ ” His look was dangerous.

Ellana stopped breathing. _Oh shit._

“Yes.” Cole breathed in a tone dark and desperate before moving back to her so quickly she only saw a blur of gold. His hands were on her face again and he was staring into her over-large eyes with intensity, his breaths coming in quick, quiet puffs between them. Ellana's heartbeat was almost continuous now in her throat and ears. Cole closed his eyes for a moment, resting his forehead against hers. When he opened them again they were filled with pleading.

“You love me,” he whispered into the stillness of the underground.

Ellana sucked in a breath and wondered if she would ever exhale again. She knew it was true.

“And _I love you_. Completely, coiled up inside, caught by every turn of your hair and the gold of your eyes and the kindness that keeps you helping the hurt. Everything.” He was still whispering, his eyes unnaturally bright in the dim light. “Everything you are is all I want.” His thumbs gently stroked her cheeks again and he added in a tone so hushed it was little more than air, “breathe, Lana.”

“I'm afraid.” Ellana exhaled, her voice shaking and mimicking the quiet of his as she grasped the front of his tunic urgently with both small hands.

“You don't have to be. We have no secrets to stalk us, silently slipping in, severing what we want.” He kissed her once gently then pulled away a few inches to watch her expression closely. “I will _never_ hurt you.” His look was honest and vulnerable. “You can only hurt me by hiding from me.”

Ellana gave in then, reaching up and pulling his mouth to hers forcefully.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things:
> 
> A lot of dialogue in this chapter references banter in the game, so if you're interested, here's the link to the entirety of it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b0zNyv_WdH0  
> Also, Cole is mistaken about what Ellana can do to hurt him, but hopefully he'll never have to find that out. Spirits adjusting to the changing nature of what is real, and all...  
> And the next chapter will maybe, possibly, if I can manage it be NSFW. So, there's that. *cringes in trepidation*  
> On a happier note, wonderful people have created more beautiful art for my story and I have added those pieces in chapters 2 (Breathe) and 14 (Try) - please take a look if you missed them. :)  
> And another matter: this work is now the first of a series. We are nearing the end of this story arc, but I don't think I'll be through with Ellana and Cole, but more on that later.  
> Finally, life is seriously flinging more stuff for me to do, so the next update will likely not be as prompt as most of them have been. I apologize in advance. I hope you guys will bear with me.


	21. Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW. So, Ellana and Cole take things to the next level. I was anxious about writing this, but then I really liked it. It's a bit sweet. For some of you it might be too little and for others of you it might be too much. I apologize for both instances. But ultimately, it's what I was comfortable with. :)

Cole's hands softly pressed Ellana's face for an instant before beginning to move, measuring the minutia of the fine-textured skin along her jaw and neck. She felt him smile as she held his lips to hers, finally allowing herself to give in to him, consequences be damned. Cole was right, and she had lost the will to continue to fight.

Ellana forgot about mages and spirits and heartbreak and propriety and protecting people and just did what she wanted to do. What she  _needed_ to do. She moved her hands to Cole's soft hair and made tiny fists that anchored his mouth against hers. A raw noise reverberated deep in his throat, his hands exploring her neck, chest and arms, searching for any bit of her skin he could find and the regal, glimmering gown afforded him plenty. Ellana's skin shivered beneath his touch like a separate living thing.

She sighed into his mouth, giving in fully to feeling alone. Her hands released his hair and moved over his chest. She wished that she could touch his skin and he pulled his tunic off in answer, throwing it on the bed beside them atop the luxuriant, chromatic silks that glinted in the candlelight. Her lips found his again instinctively, and she moved her hands to his smooth skin, feeling the lean muscle that quivered beneath her inquisitive fingertips. The cold stones of the wall dug into her back and it brought her mind back to the scene in Varric's book. She felt the flush of her cheeks as she admitted to herself the hope that those pages would prove prophetic.

Cole pulled away from her with a look so intensely heated she thought she might melt beneath his gaze. “Not yet,” he said, his breathing ragged amid the stillness and swoosh of shuffling silk. Cole dropped in front of her suddenly, his knees on the cold stone, grasping the hem of her gown and shoving layers of silk up to glisten in the low light beside his golden, shining hair.

“What are you doing?” Ellana's voice was a wisp of bemused air, almost overwhelmed by the sounds of her crumpling gown.

Cole stilled abruptly, staring up at her, his eyes barely visible due to the dark of the room and the wild cover of his glowing hair in the candlelight.

“What I want,” he answered, without a trace of shame or doubt or supplication, before returning his attentions to what was hidden beneath her gown.

Ellana's stomach lurched and jumped and took up a position somewhere in her throat, making it difficult to breathe. She couldn't see Cole anymore, his body being blanketed by the gleaming, shifting tones of gold and spicy orange, but she could feel him. His hands were on her, relieving her of her undergarments, and then Ellana's mind rushed into an incoherent blur with the sensations of his soft hair, his mouth, his fingers all against her in ways she couldn't have imagined. She was certain that if they had been in the light of day, she still would have been unable to see anything. She existed only amid soft sighs, ruffling silk and the titillation of skin against pale skin. When Ellana's legs would no longer support her, Cole reappeared before her half-closed and unfocused gaze, his eyes brighter than the lightly lilting candle flames, one hand steadying her against the stones.

Cole held her abused and crumpled skirt in his other hand and he rumpled it at her waist, pressing his torso flush against her, his body confining the silk and supporting Ellana, effectively freeing his hands. Ellana's vision cleared as she observed his face with rapt, unalterable attention, reveling in his immersed expression and the engulfing sensation that she was all he knew, all that mattered. Her absorption was so complete that it surprised her when his hands wrapped around her upper thighs and lifted her fluidly to his waist, her legs reactively encircling him.

She realized then that he was missing more than his tunic, at least, there was nothing to impede the contact of their skin around his hips. Fear spiked through her in an instant. Since joining the Inquisition, she had happened upon enough drunken soldiers to overhear a plethora of bawdy tales concerning the proportional differences between humans and elves. And Cole was completely human, in the physical sense. Every lewd tale rushed back to her now in a brutal litany of verbally illustrated licentiousness. Her mind was plagued by imagined scenes of what she was certain must be their very pronounced differences in size. Ellana's entire body went rigid with fear.

“Don't be afraid,” Cole whispered to her. He layered her lips with light, lingering kisses. “I knew, but I asked. I wanted to be sure. I don't want to hurt you.”

Some of Ellana's fear was replaced by confusion, but still her hands clung to his neck and shoulders as though her grasp on him was the only thing saving her from some vague, infinitely frightening and mysterious fate. Her voice was infinitesimal and thin with anxiety in the shadows,“you  _asked_ ?”

Cole nodded slightly, his breath still heavy, “Varric. And The Iron Bull. I've seen it, the pain, pressing. I didn't want to hurt you. I asked how not to.”

Ellana's already flushed cheeks burned brighter at the thought. How would she face those two  _ever_ again?

He looked as though he were suddenly in physical agony. “They said it only hurts the first time. That it won't last long. That you are made to move, mold. I thought there was something I could do to change it. I don't want to hurt you...” The consuming need in his eyes, the sharp pull of his shallow breaths and the sweat on his brow all conveyed his conflict more clearly than words ever could. “I'll stop if it hurts. We don't have to-”

Ellana's fear dissipated into adoration as she watched him struggle and she kissed him lightly to make him stop talking. “I trust you. I want to.” She meant it. Her rigidity eased and she allowed herself to meld into his frame and willed him to continue with her eyes and her mind and a timid kiss that quickly transformed into something much more brazen. She looked at him again, grasping his face, which held a look of conflicted anguish, between her hands. “With you.”

Cole responded with a sound of longing and excruciating slowness, his entire body quaking with the effort to control himself.

Ellana muffled a small sound of pain against Cole's neck, but the sensation was fleeting and replaced by something she didn't think she could ever fully describe.

Cole became perfectly still, if it weren't for his desperate breaths and the sheen of sweat that covered him, he could have been a pale marble statue. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...” he repeated time and again and in a tone that begged for forgiveness, lips barely moving.

Ellana held his head, her diminutive fingertips enmeshed in his golden hair, her eyes incendiary and sincere as she stared into his face. “Please don't be sorry. I'm not. Please,” she breathed, her lazy eyelids nearly closed, “ _don't stop_ .” She tried to show him the sincerity of her words with her mouth and her hands and her hips. She concentrated on her need for him, an urgent desire to hold him forever. And finally, he moved again.

Cole coaxed and caressed her with a crescendo of whispered words, a steady stream of devotion against her lips and cheek and neck. She willed herself completely into his control, her body supple and pliant, meeting every look, every movement, every kiss, every touch, every breath with eager compliance. Her senses abandoned her, running rampant and of their own accord to every place she and Cole connected. Still, she thought she understood 'finally' and 'beautiful' and 'love' and 'forever' in the cascading waves of words that broke against her skin like soft prayers. She wasn't certain how long they stayed that way – a moment, an eternity – before his muted murmurs became stilted, his breathing held and released in exaggerated pulses until he spoke her abbreviated name with urgency into her sweat-soaked neck and hair.

Ellana shivered around him, her arms encircling his shaking form the way the ocean clings to the world, without thought or control, captured by an indiscernible force that allows for nothing else. In that moment, she was certain that she would never be complete again without him.

She remained perfectly still, clinging to him tightly with her tiny arms, waiting for him to move and listening to their mutual breaths settle into slow, steady rhythms. Eventually he lifted his head from where it rested against her jaw and neck, his eyes slowly examining her face in awe. His attention remained fixed on her face as he shifted her weight to move them both to the bed. He sat with her legs still wrapped around him.

Ellana didn't know what to say, so she kissed him instead, a singular, quick communication of approval and then she grinned at him like an absolute loon.

Cole loosed a low, airy chuckle that played pleasantly on the still air in their damp, decaying, splendid, perfect subterranean retreat.

“I liked that,” Ellana said, mimicking his intonations playfully.

“I am glad,” he replied, eyes twinkling behind darkened, sweat-soaked strands of unruly hair, with what looked to her like pure, unadulterated joy. “I am  _very_ happy,” he added, the lilt of a laugh coloring the last word.

“So am I.” She answered, her face still beaming with a smile that was almost blinding and so wide it was beginning to hurt her cheeks. It lessened slightly as she used her fingers to wipe the hair that clung to his forehead to one side. “I do,” she spoke softly, placing her lips to his again briefly before continuing, “love you. So much. I didn't even know how much.”

“It started a small seed and grew while you weren't looking. It was difficult to make you turn and see.” Cole responded, his expression almost scolding.

“Well,” she offered in a conciliatory tone, “I see now.” Then her brow furrowed and she played with a lock of his hair that would have preferred to remain adhered to his pallid neck. “You aren't afraid I'll hurt you? Corrupt you or something...”

“No.” His voice was quiet. “You shouldn't worry either.” His hands began to collect her hair into a large bundle behind her in an automatic way, twisting the ringlets together, loosing them against her back to bounce and cascade out, and then repeating the process. He stared into her eyes while he worked, bright icy silver piercing gold in the candlelight. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it short, turning his head at an angle, as though listening to something in the distance. His hands stilled on her hair momentarily and then he smiled. Ellana could only describe the look as devilish. Then his hands resumed their work.

“What? Do you hear-” She stopped sharply, her ears picking up the approaching echo of boots against stone. Someone was coming. Ellana thought to move away from him, retracting her limbs, but Cole stopped her gently, his hands abandoning her hair to hold her hips firmly in place with both hands.

His tone was both amused and chiding when he spoke. “No more hiding, Lana.” He was still smiling.

“Curly, I'm telling you, this is a bad idea. Really bad. Wander around the deep roads alone, drunk and naked  _bad_ .” Varric's voice drifted through the various holes in the room's rickety door, and his tone declared unequivocally:  _you will regret it_ .

Panic climbed up Ellana's spine and her voice was almost a hiss in her desperation to reason with Cole. “There's  _not hiding_ and then there's…  _exhibitionism_ . Cole,  _please_ !” He looked mildly disappointed, but he relented and she hopped up from him like she had been poised on a spring, desperately pressing her gown down around her with frantic swipes. The sound of two pairs of boots rung very near now and lamplight licked around the corners and through the many openings of their worn door.

“How you two agreed to this absurdity in the first place is beyond me. Her safety is paramount, superseding even her own wishes. A single, constant guard? Who will tire and become distracted… or who knows what? Unacceptable.” Cullen's voice was full of annoyance and disbelief outside their ancient room.

Cole had leisurely drawn up his leggings and laced them, but he chose not to replace his tunic despite Ellana's pointed looks, and he remained casually seated beside her. He took one of her small hands and held it in his just as the door opened.

“Inquisitor, I must-” Cullen's voice vanished as soon as his eyes landed upon Ellana and Cole, each in varying states of disarray. Ellana colored furiously and Cole grinned lightly – perhaps a bit smugly – as his thumb rubbed her skin slowly where he clasped her hand in his.

Varric made a snorting sound that was half surprise, half giggle and then covered it with a forced cough, his hand over his mouth to hide the smile that was all too visible in his eyes.

Ellana groaned inwardly, imagining what Cullen must think of the scene. There she was, rumpled, snowy skin coated in sweat and red, Cole-sized hand prints, her hair a wild, half-damp mess, mouth red and raw. And then there was Cole sitting leisurely beside her, knees moving in a rhythmic, happy way, his bare torso also covered in a sheen of sweat and tiny fingernail marks, with his hair mussed and still soaked against his skin. And there was his expression, which practically screamed  _she is mine_ at Cullen while he clung to her hand possessively.

Ellana's eyes searched the floors frantically for some small hole she could retreat into.  _Why_ wasn't she a mouse? She was scolding herself for not taking the opportunity to learn about shape-shifting from Morrigan when she had the chance when Cullen interrupted her thoughts.

“I… apologize, Inquisitor.” His tone was low and clipped. He was angry. Worse than that, though, he was  _hurt_ and it broke Ellana's heart. “You were right, Varric, this was a bad idea. Please forgive me for intruding.” Cullen backed up slowly, looking for all of Thedas as though he was chewing shards of glass.

“Cullen wait, please, let me-” Ellana's words were halted by the simultaneous rise of Cullen's hand and the increased pressure of Cole's hand on her own.

“Ellana,” Cullen managed to grind out. “Not now. If I don't leave now, I will say things that I cannot take back.” With that, he turned and stomped back out the way he had entered, the atmosphere around him crackling with tense fury.

Varric's smile had transformed into a look of pity, but before he turned to follow Cullen, he gave Ellana and Cole a small smile and a conspiratorial wink.

Just like that, she was alone with Cole again. She felt her concern for Cullen like a physical weight and it caused her to fall abruptly to a sitting position beside Cole.  _Creators, what a mess._

Cole grasped the hand he was already holding in both of his own, using them to bring her fingers to his face. The gesture drew Ellana's eyes to his. They appeared even larger than usual, rounded with concern and perhaps a bit of fear and shone more of a light gray than blue in the dark.

“Do you regret it?” Cole's voice was thick and low and his brow was furrowed and raised.

Ellana didn't like the idea of hurting Cullen, but the thought of hurting Cole made her want to black out the sun and end everything. The feeling was sudden and overwhelming. She furrowed her dainty brows at him in return before uttering a fierce, “ _never._ ” And then she kissed him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Making like a mouse now...


	22. Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana gets an update and an unexpected visitor.

“Are you out of your frigging head or something? Droopy ears running off messed you up _that much_? Or is it more because of some elfy elf, not-enough-sense-to-be-afraid-of-demons mage thing?” Sera stood in the door to the tiny room, making no attempt to hide her look of outraged disbelief.

One corner of Ellana's mouth rose briefly.  _Well, they all know now._ She put down her quill and leaned back in the rough chair to examine Sera as she spoke. “Yes, hello to you too, Sera. Something I can help clear up for you?” Her tone was amused. In truth, her tone with Sera was almost always amused. Ellana only seemed to lose patience with the chaotic archer when it came to her treatment of Cole, but that had improved considerably over their time together. Cole's increasing humanity also seemed to help put Sera at greater ease. Or so Ellana thought.

“You and  _Creepy_ ?” Sera sounded as though she might choke.

“My name is Cole.” He interjected quietly where he sat cross-legged on the small bed, still flipping through the pages of Varric's novel with leisure.

“Really?” Sera continued to stare at Ellana as though Cole didn't exist.

“Yes.” Cole offered in a matter of fact sort of way.

“ _Ugh_ , shut it!” Sera spat in Cole's direction and then turned her attention back to Ellana. “Is this how it will be, then? Me, trying to talk to you about important stuff and having to listen to  _him_ ?”

“Yes.” Cole interjected again before Ellana could respond. When she looked at him, Ellana had to stifle her own laughter. Cole was  _teasing_ Sera.

Sera was much less amused. She walked over and snatched Ellana up by the wrist. “That's it! You. Me. Stream.  _Now_ .”

Ellana used her insignificant weight to slow Sera and turned her head toward Cole as she was pulled rigidly toward the rotting wood that served as their door. Cole was looking much less playful now and he started to rise, but Ellana stopped him with a shake of her head. He settled back in his spot but set the book aside, clearly not liking either Sera's insistence or Ellana being out of his sight, or both.

“Stream?” Ellana questioned, still being tugged along by a huffing, annoyed Sera through the dark hall.

“Found it before, just a trickle right up from the ground, cold and clear. You need a bath. You  _smell_ like  _Creepy_ .  _Ick_ .”

Ellana could just barely make out the disgusted shake of Sera's head in the dark. She wondered idly how Sera could even see where she was headed in the pitch of the hall. She decided an attempt at distraction might be called for... besides there were things she actually needed to know.

“Has Leliana been seated on the Sunburst Throne? Did they have the ceremony?” Leliana's ascension was an important part of their plan, not to mention a significant event for Thedas in general.

“Oh, yeah. She was all broken up about the Herald kicking. Then she went right on to loose magic all over. Got lots of normal people ready to fight, but that's 'cause they don't know how frigging  _scary_ she is.” Sera cocked her head to one side. “But she's not nearly as knife-in-the-dark scary as she was at first. You have that way with people, Inqy, which is why you can't end up with arrows in your face for coming out all demony!” Sera glanced back at her with a frown to punctuate her dictate before turning them to the right down a side corridor.

“Sera,” Ellana's tone was exasperated. “I assure you, I am in no danger of going 'demony.' Also, try to focus, please. Has Zevran been contacted again? Is the meet set?” Ellana decided it was best to get as much information out of Sera as quickly as she could. She had a sneaking suspicion that her bathing experience would consist of her standing in cold water while listening to a colorful lecture on the dangers of demons.

“What?” Sera was so focused on scolding that it took her a second to switch gears. “Oh, yeah. Slipped another note right up on his pillow. Different serving girl, same nothing to help. Shame we can't get them on the right side. Can always use more sneaking, yeah?”

“Maybe we can, it wouldn't be the first time I've talked sense into an enemy. You know I hate to give up on people if there's any hope at all for redemption.” Ellana's voice rang with a sad edge against the inky walls.

“That's good, yeah… when they're small and messed up and beat down. But you give noble asses more than they deserve.”

“Nobles are people too, Sera. Not inherently good or bad just because of a station they are born into. They're all just people.  _All_ people need second chances at some point.” It was an old argument and probably something they would never fully agree on. Ellana acknowledged that wealth and power often bread irredeemable asses, but she refused to paint an entire section of society with a single brush.

Sera just snorted in her typical, completely unladylike way.

Ellana smiled at the back of her head. As frustrating as Sera could be at times, she couldn't help but adore her, snorts and all. Ellana tried again to keep them on track. “And when and where is the meet?”

“Back of a cafe in Val Royeaux, early morning in the dark. Baddies always want to meet in the dark. Had a friend check it… good for laying in wait. Balconies, little dark corners all round. Good thing we'll be there to cover that assassin’s arse. They might as well scream, 'Hey you! Come stand over here so we can fill you with arrows!'” Sera let out a combination of a snort and a laugh. “But yeah, sooner than they said too. Must have really bought it good! Just two more days down here, then.  _With Creepy_ .” Ellana could hear Sera's scowl return before she saw her face.

“Sera.” Ellana's tone had finally made the transition to irritation. “His name is  _Cole_ . I think it's time you begin using it.”

They stopped and Ellana surveyed the large room around them. There were cracks in the ceiling stones where vegetation inserted itself into the ancient structure and light slipped past the ground to create beams of illuminated, dancing particles of dust amid the dark. Near one end of the large area there was a small opening in the ground and water flowed up and out of it to trace the angle of the stones and disappear into a hole in the opposite wall. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. Ellana moved toward the small spring and began splashing the icy water over her face and arms.

“Yeah, here's a name for you: Cullen.” Sera was standing with her arms crossed and everything in her voice and demeanor held angry accusation.

Ellana paused in her ablutions, standing to face Sera, instantaneously saddened. She'd tried not to think about Cullen over the last two days, and Cole's persistent attempts to claim her full attention had worked flawlessly. But now she could clearly see Cullen's expression of shock and pain and the guilt ripped through her. “I never meant to hurt him. I care about Cullen… just not in the way he wants.” Ellana's voice was a sliver of a whisper, soft and faint amid the floating particles that rustled and dispersed with her breath.

Sera's tone softened, “well, I suppose you can't help it if you don't get twisted up about someone the same way they do about you.” She scowled at the ground and kicked at a rock, arms crossed in front of her.

“Is he... okay?” Ellana asked quietly.

“No!” Sera looked at her as though she were some poor half-wit, then she shifted her attention back to the ground, “can't be helped though, can it?” She looked up at Ellana again, wild eyes full of determination, “you know what  _can_ be helped, though?  _You_ being with a  _demon_ .”

“Sera,” there was a warning in Ellana's tone as she continued, “ _Cole_ is not a demon. He was a  _spirit_ but he is more human now.”

“How much more? Take-a-shite-and-shave-and-move-and-die-like-a-normal-person human or just-enough-to-not-talk-nonsense-so-it's-easier-to-suck-you-in human?” Sera wasn't giving in.

Ellana just frowned. She had no idea where Cole was currently on the spirit to human spectrum but she was positive that she didn't care. There was no going back for her now, no matter what the answer.

“See? Right, you don't even know! What if he gets all up in you and then gets  _all up in you_ ?” Sera paused for effect, her overlarge blue eyes glaring at Ellana with intensity before continuing. “ _Arrows_ . That's what.”

“If it makes you feel better, you have my permission to fill me full of as many arrows as you deem necessary should I suddenly fall to possession.” Ellana attempted to reassure her. “Though I am certain Cole would never harm me. Also, Corypheus was unable to bind him, which seems like a pretty good indicator that Cole has advanced closer to the human side of things.”

“Coryphy-tit got nothing right so I don't really see how that proves shite. 'Sides, is that supposed to make it better? I get your blessing to fill your face full of arrows and that makes it okay? There are some things you don't get past.” Sera's face was softening again, her brows creasing her forehead as they moved together and her arms lowering to worry her hands together in agitation.

Ellana sighed. “Sera, it is not something you will ever need my blessing for because it  _won't happen_ . I love that you are concerned for me. I think you know how much I care about you and you will always have a home with the Inquisition, with me. But Cole is a part of that home; we are a package deal. You don't have to like it, but you will have to accept it.” Ellana grinned at her and added, “besides, I need you watching my back.”

“Always putting people above you, taking  _stupid_ chances. I  _don't_ like it.” Sera examined Ellana's resolute face and then let out an irritated cross between a grunt and a sigh. “Guess there's not much choice, yeah, someone's got to keep an eye on you.” Sera's face shifted suddenly and she grinned at Ellana. “You're pretty enough keeping eyes on you is easy at least.”

Ellana rolled her own eyes in response and flicked the water from her damp hand in Sera's general direction before kneeling again to try to rinse two days worth of sweat, sex and grime from her face and neck.

“You're gonna have to do better than that if you don't want every arse for miles to know you have been bumping bits with your de-” she paused and started again in exaggerated irritation “ _spirit_ boy.”

“I'm fine with rinsing this way.” It wasn't exactly true. She felt as though she needed to sand-scrape an entire layer of skin off she was so filthy. Ellana had spent enough nights in makeshift camps in inhospitable areas that she  _should_ be accustomed to the layer of oil and grime that clings after missing only a day of bathing. She never could seem to acclimate herself to the sensation. It made her miserable, distracted her and made it nearly impossible to sleep.

“Still shy about showing your bits?” Sera had her head cocked to the side and was grinning at Ellana suggestively. “Maybe I could help you out and you'd forget all about Creep-, uhg,  _him_ ...”

“Probably not.” Cole's voice rasped from the dark causing both Sera and Ellana to jump a bit, Sera swinging her bow into action and Ellana summoning the first few sparks to fly along her fingertips for a half a second before a smile settled across her face and she relaxed in recognition.

Sera was still holding her bow, but at least the arrow she had notched was pointing at the ground. “Frigging shit pisstoss arse!” Sera swore at Cole before turning back to Ellana. “It's not my fault if he does that and I fill him with arrows. Sneaking up on me  _gets arrows_ . Remember that, Creep-” she swallowed, “ _Cole_ .” She somehow made his name sound like it was the most lewd curse of all. She swung her bow back in place and turned with a quick step back in the direction they had emerged. She tossed over her shoulder, “I figure  _he_ knows the way back,” and then she disappeared into the dark.

Cole approached Ellana, ignoring the retreating, quick steps of Sera. He stopped when she was within his reach.

“Did you hear everything?” She thought he must have been shadowing them the entire time. For some reason, Ellana felt as though she should probably be upset about that, but the only thing she could muster was amusement.

“Yes,” he breathed lightly, staring at her with his large, luminescent eyes beneath swaying strands of silver. “Sera sometimes thinks about you and peaches. I don't like it.”

Ellana remembered Sera offering to give Blackwall peach eating tips and flushed to the tips of her ears. “Well, you don't need to worry about that. I like Sera, but she's not really my type.”

“Am I your type?” He asked, voice thick with genuine curiosity. He began removing her clothing while he waited for an answer. His actions made it difficult for Ellana to concentrate as she anticipated his intention to help her bathe.

“You're more than that. You're Cole.” Ellana gazed at the way the light from the hole in the ceiling played across his hair and highlighted his pale skin. It made her want to touch his face.

Cole rewarded her with a smile and then proceeded to undress her fully and then himself. There amid shifting particles of dust and light and small sounds that echoed in the emptiness of the chamber Ellana became clean, then dirty, and clean again before they found their way back to her tiny refuge and the bed where she fell into exhausted, happy sleep.

 

* * *

 

Ellana made a soft cry as Cole entered her and it seemed to bounce around her like light. There was nothing clear, not her thoughts nor her senses, only a mass of shifting skin and hair and fullness and kisses and sweat and sweet, murmuring sounds of passion. She could feel Cole everywhere around her and inside her. Cole was a warm breeze that kissed, cupped and taunted her skin and she reveled in the feel of him and her physical sensations and pressing emotions intertwined, knotted together and overwhelming.

Gradually her senses sharpened and she was moved, aware and watching from a distance, while a separate image of herself and Cole continued to reenact the many things they had learned over the last several days. The overwhelming sensations sloughed off of her as though she was sweating out a potion, leaving her alert and apart, a spectator to a beautiful but increasingly distant representation of things experienced and things she secretly hoped would come. Finally, she found herself so detached that she began to question the reality of her surroundings and in that moment she realized she was dreaming. She watched her self and Cole amid a hazy framework. She hadn't dreamed like this since before…

Ellana's head snapped up, all of her senses fully under her control again and singing with lucidity. She was not alone.

“Well, I can see I needn't have concerned myself with your well-being, Inquisitor.” The voice was rich and smooth, the intonations clear and cultured. It was a voice she would recognize if she didn't hear it for a thousand years. It was a voice that had filled her with elation and destroyed her heart. It was a voice filled with hurt and rage.

Ellana's eyes rose to the soul-wrenching specter who stood opposite the scene of sex and emotion that played out between them. She found the face she knew so well, the deep water blue of the eyes that had once encompassed all that mattered to her in the world. Her voice was a quivering whisper when she could finally speak.

“ _Solas_ .”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late guys. Life is just... well, there's stuff. Anywho, I hope this turned out alright; I've been pretty terrified of attempting to write Sera. Love her, but she's the most difficult for me to capture for some reason.
> 
> Also, while I have a playlist for this story, I haven't shared it because musical preferences are deeply diverse.   
> But TheChampion04 has suggested a soundtrack, and I really liked it, so I thought I would share it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FHlvb7uWw8M&feature=youtu.be
> 
> And the song that is the official Ellana/Cole song for me is here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nmoG2NioVvY  
> And here's another one I like to listen to when writing Ellana and Cole: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8GTdM8YqYYg


	23. Solas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana has a chat with Solas.

“ _Vhenan_.” Solas' voice was tight and bitter, his expression a complex amalgamation of pain, disbelief and rage. His hands were clasped behind his back, his spine rigidly straight. His brow was so deeply furrowed that the crease between his brows looked more like a bottomless chasm.

Ellana struggled with a brutal swirl of emotions so thick and conflicted that she had difficulty summoning her voice. She stared at him, mouth slightly agape in shock. Finally, one of her warring sensations managed to fight its way through to the surface, forcing her to raise one hand toward him, as if to touch him for confirmation, before she spoke softly. “You're  _alive_ .” She could feel the tears pool on her lashes and fall to litter her cheekbones with damp streaks. They seemed to form and move of their own accord.

Solas' face softened. “As are you.”

Ellana mentally shook herself, desperately trying to get a grasp on the internal barrage of relief, pain, happiness, anger, disbelief and hope that roiled inside her chest. Her eyes fell to the scene of her and Cole together between them and she finally collected herself enough to disperse the apparitions of her sleeping mind. Solas made a subtle shift as her alternate self and Cole disappeared into a wisp of air and then nothing.

Ellana could feel herself flush with embarrassment. And guilt. The idea that she felt guilty brought out her anger.

“I disappeared in order to draw out an enemy.” Ellana's hand dropped, no longer eager to confirm his existence, hurt and anger winning out in her chest before she continued. “I'm curious, what was your reason for vanishing without a word,  _vhenan_ ?” She emphasized the endearment with venom, the tears that hovered in her eyes unspent seemed to evaporate instantaneously.

Solas faltered then, a look of guilt shadowing his features, the prideful rise of his chin lowering slightly. “There are things that I must accomplish on my own. I said nothing before leaving in order to protect you and avoid pointless upset. I knew you would fight to come with me.” His voice was steady, as always.

“ _Avoid pointless upset_ ...” Ellana repeated with incredulity. One corner of her mouth rose with a wry, mirthless twist. “Well, it seems that, despite your great wisdom, you grossly miscalculated. Upset, pointless or otherwise, was most certainly  _not_ avoided.” And then she cocked her head to the side slightly. “But then, I suppose you weren't really talking about what  _I_ might have felt, only about your own feelings. Congratulations, then, on skillfully avoiding the consequences of your actions.”

Solas looked as though she had physically hit him for a moment. “ _Vhenan_ , I -”

Ellana raised one small, stiff hand to stop him. “No. I don't want to hear that word from you. You don't just walk away from your  _heart_ and continue about your business without it.” The pain of months before sucked her back in all over again, drowning her tone until it was deep and quiet, almost unrecognizable. “If Cole hadn't been there for me I'm not sure how I would have survived with my heart ripped away. Clearly, you have experienced no such difficulty.”

Solas' look of guilt shifted back to anger at the mention of Cole's name, his hands falling to make fists at his sides. “Yes, I could see just how much he was able to help you. Tell me – was that a vision of what was, or what you hope will be?” He took a few steps toward her, but Ellana held her ground.

“I don't see how that is any of your concern.” Ellana bit out.

“Your evasiveness answers just as clearly as a worded admission,  _vhenan_ .” He was very evidently livid now, enraged by his own correct conclusion. He took another step toward her, placing her within his reach, his angry glare piercing and the fade crackling around him like a halo.

“Fine.” Ellana retorted, leaning forward slightly in her anger, her hands moving with her heated words. “You wish to discuss Cole, then by all means, please explain to me how you managed to wipe the memory of you from Cole's mind? Feel free to skip right over how you overcame the moral boundaries that would preclude doing such a thing – as you have already proven that you can rationalize your way into any action – and get straight to the part where you tell me how you are powerful enough to accomplish such a feat. How you possess an ability that  _you_ explicitly stated is singular to spirits alone, not mages.” She glowered at him. While he was here, she was determined to expose every lie.

Shock rippled across his face. “I… I did not-”

“Do  _not_ lie to me. I found Cole after you left, you were speaking to him…  _through_ him. You apologized. You wiped his memory of you.  _I witnessed it_ . He only knows you from the thoughts of others now... from  _my_ thoughts.” Ellana scowled as she recalled Cole's words to her concerning the way Solas had treated her.  _'No. He is_ _not good._ _He hurt you. I won't forget that.'_

“You made an enemy of Compassion through your deceit.” Her own bitterness surprised her and she immediately wished she could take it back.

Solas exhibited some bitterness of his own. His derisive laugh came out harsh. “Ha! I doubt Compassion still exists. He has been turned from his purpose. Given what I just witnessed, he is likely closer to desire than compassion.” His full lips were set in a firm scowl.

“He has grown in his humanity. You don't even know him anymore.” Ellana's heart was beating against her ribs in hurt and anger. “And I am fairly certain I  _never_ really knew  _you_ .”

Solas sighed, some of the rage in his face ebbing, replaced by concern. “There are things I am unable to share with you,  _vhenan_ . It is for the best.”

“Like how you missed and enjoyed noble parties? Parties that an elven apostate would never be admitted to and yet you were perfectly at ease.” Ellana paused, staring into his eyes, searching for the truth there since she doubted she would ever hear it from his lips. She began again before he could respond. “You said you would tell me everything after Corypheus was defeated. Another lie. And I told you already,  _do not_ use that word when you address _me_ .”

“ _Vhen_ -” He stopped himself. His rage had dissipated into guilt, fear and regret intertwining with his words. “Ellana, any… misdirection... I employed served a greater purpose. It was never my intent to hurt you. A large part of that purpose was to  _protect_ you.  _Is_ to protect you. Regardless of how you feel about me now...  _ar lath ma_ . Despite my necessary deception, my feelings are real and remain unchanged.”

Ellana felt her own anger slip. How often had she longed to hear those words spoken again in that voice? She felt the sound might rip her apart. “Solas, please...”

He took advantage of the opening, reaching out to grab her wrist and pull her to him. He folded her against him and let out a relieved sigh into the top of her hair. “I have missed you,  _vhenan_ .” When he used the endearment this time, there was only love and pain in it. “When I heard of your assassination I had to try to find your spirit. The thought of never seeing you, touching you again, the idea that you were gone from this world forever… such an idea brought more torment than I could bear.”

Ellana was crying again, she seemed to have no control over her wildly spiraling emotions. She was so involved in her struggle that she didn't notice the spirits hovering at the edge of her senses, attracted by their volatile encounter. She allowed herself to give in for just a moment. She put her arms around him, her hands gripping his back desperately as she whispered into his damp tunic. “I thought I might die when you disappeared. I searched for you every night.”

“I am sorry,  _vhenan_ . It was never my intention to cause you pain.” Solas kissed the top of her head gently, one of his hands rising to grip the nape of her neck beneath her hair. “Please, though you are angry with me – and that anger is just – I ask that you heed me in this: what you are attempting with Cole is dangerous. I am not saying this because you are mine. I am saying it because your safety and well-being are of utmost importance, and not only to me.”

Ellana stiffened and pulled away from him. The way he had casually said ' _because you are mine_ ' ignited a fire in her chest again. She dropped her arms and looked up at him as she spoke. “You are right. I am not yours. Not anymore. How can I belong to someone who doesn't exist?” She swallowed and willed her eyes to dry. “I don't even know who you are,  _Pride_ .”

Solas' face blanched, but his jaw clenched as he attempted to control himself.

“As for Cole, he is guiltless and no danger to me. All he has tried to do is help and protect me. He loves me,  _truly_ loves me. I know it because of the way he is honest and open. The way he doesn't attempt to conceal anything from me. The way he puts me first. The way you never did.”

Solas' found his voice and it was laced with hurt and anger again. But more than any other emotion, concern colored his every word. “Think what you will of me,  _vhenan_ , but I beg you, be cautious. He may very well be more human now, but he is at his core a spirit. You are a mage. Surely you must see the danger of embracing such a relationship?”

“That is a very interesting argument coming from someone who wishes for a world without the veil to separate us from the fade. What of mage independence and free cooperative interaction with spirits?” Ellana had the unhappy, but currently useful, gift for remembering everything he had ever told her. She thought she would never forget his voice.

Frustration made his words more forceful than she was used to hearing from him. “Yes, mages should be free and interaction with spirits can be highly rewarding – when done with a clear understanding of their nature. You willfully set Cole on a path that will inevitably lead to the corruption of his purpose.”

“It is the nature of humanity to change. He is now a human.” Ellana shot back with equal force.

“He is a spirit at his core. Change will mean corruption.” Solas shook his head and swung one hand down for emphasis.

“Like you, perhaps?” Ellana blurted out. She had spent a great deal of time wondering about who and what Solas was, considering the true nature of one with his abilities, abilities that he desperately attempted to hide.

“What?” Solas' anger transformed to a sort of surprise or perhaps fear before reforming into the absolute neutral expression he preferred.

“Nothing.” Ellana closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose for a moment before looking at him again. His expression told her that he was shutting her out again, as surely as if he had slammed a door in her face. “I will take my chances.” She added finally, in a tone that said she was ending their conversation.

Solas frowned again, refusing to acknowledge her wish to let the subject drop. “Being with you will not be enough. He will want to  _possess_ you. If that happens, both of you will be lost. Do  _not_ do this.” He finished on a low, almost desperate note.

“You no longer have the right to tell me what or what not to do.” Ellana was ready to end this. She was glad Solas lived and she was confused by the swelling of old feelings for him, hovering beneath the surface and disturbing her greatly. She began to will herself awake.

“ _Vhenan_ , please, don't-” Solas sounded almost panicked.

“I am sorry. I am glad you are well, but please don't look for me again, at least not until you can be honest with me. We have nothing to discuss until then.”

The last thing Ellana saw was Solas reaching for her, his form blurring and twisting on itself before she snapped awake, sitting up and panting in the deep, low light of a single candle. She could feel tears still damp on her face. She could also feel Cole's arms around her, his hair against her forehead and his breath against her damp cheek.

“He came to you.” Cole held her tenderly but his voice was raspy and deep and as cold as steel.

“Yes.” She didn't see a point in denying it.

“He has to be physically near to find you?” His words were clipped, but his fingers stroked her hair softly in the dark.

Ellana strained to think, feeling lightheaded from Solas' visitation and her swirling feelings. “I believe so, yes. He once told me that you had to… find new areas to find new experiences, I think. Which means...” Ellana's head snapped up.

Cole moved away from her like a puff of black smoke amid the illumination of the lone candle. When he rematerialized beside the bed, she realized that he was in full armor and he had both blades drawn. When Cole spoke, he finished her sentence for her in a tone both sinister and certain.

“I can find him.” He said and then he disappeared through the pieces of wood that served as a door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ar lath ma = I love you  
> Vhenan = Heart
> 
> If you haven't seen it, this is a video of Solas making Cole forget him after the fight with Corypheus: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dzWGSBJowqA  
> And this is where Solas says that making people forget is an ability unique to spirits: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=180cob81bfw
> 
> So my idea is that he, and very possibly the rest of the pantheon, were originally spirits that willed themselves into something else. But that's just my own personal, very unofficial theory. As for Ellana, she has suspicions but lacks our knowledge so all she can really know for sure is that he is hiding things from her.


	24. Barriers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fighting is interrupted... by fighting. (I don't seem to be improving at all with these summaries.)

“No! _Cole_!” Ellana screamed after Cole's shifting form, simultaneously jumping from her place on the bed in an attempt to follow him. Pieces of wood shattered as she slammed through the decrepit, piecemeal door and slid into the wall of ancient stone on the opposite side, her hands rising to absorb the impact. She paused then, searching first the corridor to her right which led toward the surface exit for Cole. Finding nothing, she instantly turned to her left and caught a sliver of shifting light. Without thought or hesitation, she cast a barrier on the quivering, Cole-shaped air just before it moved left down a side corridor.

Ellana ran after him, her eyes searching the dark with wide-eyed desperation. She loosed fire to lick lightly over her hand spontaneously, the dance of the flames allowing her to make out the grays and greens of her surroundings. She used her magic as a target, following the crackling of the fade around her barrier like a beacon, recasting the spell every time she caught a glimpse of him. Her bare feet scraped and slipped on the condensation that covered moss and stone, sending her more than once to collide with corridor walls and rending Cole's overly large tunic, which was the only item of clothing she wore. The cool, humid air chilled her and small creatures skittered at the sound of her clamoring. She barely noticed any of it. All she could see was the impending battle between Solas and Cole and the agony that would bring. How would that end? Could Cole kill Solas? Would he? Or would Solas, who clearly hid his full power, annihilate Cole in an instant? Or would there be some sort of draw?

She decided there was no scenario that would end happily. Her only hope was to stop the confrontation before it began. She didn't bother to scream for Cole again, but instead saved her breath for running. She was not athletic in the least and there was already a sharp pain piercing her side. She ignored it and focused instead on staying afoot and following the rippling vibrations of her barrier.

Ellana tripped over a loose stone and crashed into another wall as she made a sharp turn to the left in the dim and her grunt on impact echoed around her along with her heavy breaths. Her knee oozed dark liquid where it had taken the full force of the fall and slid across the stones. She felt it was worth the pain, though, when she saw Cole standing at the end of the corridor before her. He was perfectly still and had his head slightly askew, as though listening. Ellana quickly cast another barrier, reviving the green glow around him, before attempting to control her breathing enough to call out to him. Before she could get a single word past her lips, he disappeared to the right.

She swallowed and set out again, ignoring her bleeding knee and lacerated feet, hands and upper arms, desperate to catch up with him before he found Solas. For a second it occurred to her that she might have to expose herself to the world to stop what was about to happen. Should that be the case, it could ruin all they had worked to accomplish. The fact that she was also almost naked, completely escaped her. It took her only one further second to conclude that she didn't care. She had to stop Cole. Nothing else mattered now.

Finally, Ellana heard voices, an echoing flush of muffled, angry and indiscernible tones. She followed them, as they coincided with the hum of her magic. She gasped and puffed desperately as she willed her body forward, her sense of urgency renewed. They were in the bowels of the elaborate ruins now and she took some comfort in the fact that she would not need to expose her deception to all of Thedas. At least, not yet. She should have realized that Solas would choose a highly secluded ruin to serve as a sanctuary for fade-walking. The corridor lightened around her as she approached a veilfire lit, ancient stone room. She allowed the lapping flames encasing her hand to dissipate. The shadows of two figures pulsed and played across the corridor, one perfectly still, the other rippling and prowling back and forth to merge and separate time and again. Ellana could make out the voices clearly now.

“You  _hurt_ her. I won't let you hurt her again!” Cole's voice rang like an airy, murderous hiss.

“You are confused, Cole. You have yet to fully grasp the workings of this realm and you are being twisted against your purpose. Sometimes we have no alternative but to hurt those we love in order to protect them.” Solas' voice was tightly controlled as he attempted to reason with the spirit who was once his friend and ally.

“I am not confused. I see clearly. You clung to her, coaxing, creating feeling only to tear it all away.  _I_ held her while she cried and wanted to die because of  _you_ .” Cole's voice lowered to a menacing degree. “You shouldn't have come back.”

Ellana burst into the large, open space that held the two men she loved, slamming into a pillar and clinging to it desperately to hold herself upright while she worked to catch her wildly pulsing breath. She observed Solas, standing before her in the flesh, restrained in both temper and posture, and she felt it was as though he had never left. Her heart twisted painfully in her chest.

He stood amid a circle of wards that shimmered in the dark along with the veilfire near his half-packed bag. Opposite the wards, Cole paced back and forth like a predatory animal waiting for its cornered prey to bolt. His hair was wild, his fingers gripping his dual-wield blades so tightly that the skin covering his knuckles was practically translucent. The muscle in his jaw twitched and bulged with wrath, his head lowered dangerously, his eyes a frigid glow that alternately pierced the shifting curtain of his hair. The last shimmer of the barrier popped and fizzled to leave his features darkened by shadows.

Solas' eyes found Ellana behind Cole and swept over her form in distress. She watched his expression shift from worry to anger before he addressed Cole again, his tone cold.

“And who is harming Ellana now, Cole?”

Cole's attention jerked toward Ellana spasmodically, the blades in his hands lowering slowly, his mouth opening and eyes widening as he took in Ellana's form. His gaze moved over his oversized tunic, shredded and bloodied along both of her arms, and then moved down to absorb her scraped knee and sliced feet. Ellana was slightly slumped, her back rising and falling in fierce intervals as she struggled to moderate her breathing.

“No, no...” Cole whispered, taking a step towards her, “Lana...”

Solas made a guttural noise at Cole's use of Ellana's abbreviated name. “Yes. Is it compassion that sent you racing after me, without a thought for what might happen to Ellana unguarded? Or what she might risk in order to stop you? Is that how much better you are at proving your love for her than I?”

“I was so loud. I didn't hear...” Cole's expression was torment.

“You didn't hear because you were possessed by the thought of vengeance. All you could see was punishing me, without thought of what that act might bring for Ellana. How far you have strayed from who you should be; it saddens me greatly to see my predictions realized.” Solas' voice did contain a note of sadness, but also there, twisted amid the pity and regret, were the undeniable, entrenched tones of self-righteousness. The sound enraged Ellana.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...” Cole dropped his blades, the sound of the metal against stone ringing around them amid the cavernous room as he began gently examining Ellana's wounds. Tears of self-recrimination and worry blurred his eyes as he fell to his knees before carefully examining the shredded and bruised skin of her knee.

“How  _dare_ you?” Ellana bit out at Solas, her every word dripping with a venom she hadn't known she was capable of until that very moment. Then she turned her attention from his shocked expression to focus on Cole. Ellana squatted before him, grasping his pale, frantic and tortured face in both of her scraped hands.

“Cole.” Ellana spoke softly to him. He continued to examine her skin, whispering to himself a barrage of words harsh and guilt-ridden. “Cole, please, look at me.” The pain in her voice drew his attention to her eyes then.

“I am okay. These wounds are superficial. What you did, what you felt… all the jealousy, the protectiveness, the desire to avenge me… these are all normal emotions. Feeling them does not demonstrate a lack of love for me. In fact, having those emotional responses  _proves_ your feelings for me. They are just new to you, it will take time to master them.” She stroked his cheeks tenderly with her fingertips as she spoke. Solas whispered something heated under his breath, but Ellana kept her attention focused on Cole.

Cole seemed unconvinced. “I left you. I didn't hear you, only myself. So loud, longing, so strong. I needed to kill him for hurting you, to be certain he couldn't hurt you again...” Cole paused, hurt and confusion clouding his pale features. “But I left you alone, forced you to follow, and… and it's not what you want.” His expression twisted in agony. “You still  _love him_ .” His voice was barely audible, his eyes shining unnaturally in the dim light before he closed them and turned his head ever so subtly toward Solas, “and he still loves you.”

Ellana heard Solas suck in a breath and she glanced in his direction, a momentary slip at having their lingering emotions laid bare in the depths of the dank underground. She opened her mouth to speak, though she was unsure what she might say, when she was interrupted by the sound of rock crashing and a high pitched screeching sound pierced and then permeated the air around them.

Everything was thrown into chaos. Cole disappeared from her grasp in a whir, his absence knocking her off balance so that she landed on her bare ass on the damp stone. The piercing screeching seemed to be everywhere, inside her head and out, a crippling sound that had no discernible origin. Several of Solas' wards erupted, encasing inky black beings in blocks of ice and incinerating them as they flung themselves erratically through the dark. Ellana caught a glimpse of what might have once been elf ears, and grotesquely elongated limbs. The eyes and face, filled with inky corruption and lined with rows of jagged teeth were unmistakable. Darkspawn.

Ellana didn't bother to rise fully, but instead perched on her knees as she began casting. She sent a large ball of fire at one of the creatures nearest her, creating a conflagration so intense that it lit the room fully with blinding, shifting light. It took Ellana a mere second to assess. Solas was fighting two of the creatures, two were down, Cole was slicing three into pitch black and oozing pieces and several more were entering from the whole in the crumbling stone.

Ellana threw a barrier over Cole and created a static cage to corral the creatures yet to enter the room, then raised one hand and loosed a chain of lightning that shot through the chaos of putrid black and fire and ice columns like arching arrows. Shrieks rung around them as first one creature, then another and another were incinerated, the first one leaving only a pile of black ash to prove it had ever existed. When the bolt dissipated, both Cole and Solas were focused on the creatures held in check by her cage at the gaping entrance they had created in the ancient wall. Ellana stood then, shouting to them both as she moved, “back away now!”

Both men obeyed without even a glance in her direction and once they were clear, Ellana used the anchor to open a rift just inside the black depths of the opening, sucking waves of furiously screaming beasts into the fade.

“Retreat to the hall!” She looked at Solas and nodded as they backed away from the fresh pit and he needed no words to understand her communication. He sent a fist of stone toward the ceiling above the hole. Just before it reached its target, Ellana closed her rift and they could only see the crash of the structure over the opening by the light of Solas' staff.

Ellana coughed and waved grit and moss particles away from her face to watch them settle around the collapse, the screams and crashing of stone fading into a thick silence. She was thankful the situation hadn't been worse, considering their unprepared state and she turned to make certain that Cole and Solas were unharmed.

What she found froze her in place. Cole was behind Solas, eyes emanating a bright, ethereal glow over Solas' left shoulder, the wicked blade in his right hand held firmly in place at Solas' exposed throat. Solas was perfectly still, both of his arms stretched out in a posture of surrender.

“Cole! No!” Ellana's voice was shrill in the stuffy room.

“I won't let you hurt her again. I won't let you take her away from me.” Cole's voice was so still and calm that it sent chills racing along Ellana's spine and arms.

“Cole, this is a mistake.” Solas, despite his knowledge of Cole's lethal abilities and his precarious situation, sounded remarkably calm, more sad than fearful. “You are poised at a precipice, a path that will lead only to pain, death and destruction. Please reconsider this course, my friend.”

Ellana focused her attention on Cole. “Cole.” His narrowed eyes found hers in the dark. “Cole, please, this is unnecessary. We only kill when we must, when our lives are threatened. Solas is not endangering us.”

“He did. He will again.” Cole's tone was matter of fact and Ellana got the distinct impression that he was not speaking of her complicated love life. She didn't have the opportunity to question him before he continued. “He wants to take you from me. He knows you still love him.” The pain in his words was a palpable weight in her ears.

“That may be,” Ellana began, moving a step toward them, “but it doesn't matter what he wants, Cole. He lied to me. He is still lying to me. I can't trust him. It is my choice and I choose you. Can I trust you, Cole?”

Cole's face softened and the blade in his hand shifted fractionally away from Solas' throat. “Yes.” Then his brows furrowed slightly, “but you still love him.”

Ellana noted that Solas' face had resumed its usual serene facade, giving away nothing as she moved closer still. “We can't always help who we love, Cole. We can love many people and in many different ways. I will always care for Solas; he was my first love.” She knew that lying to Cole would be an effort in futility. She also needed him to understand. “But the love I have for you dwarfs the feelings that remain for him. You are the love I wish to spend my life with. You are the love that I want to give myself to. You are the one I trust. I choose you.” Ellana was close enough to place her hand on Cole's arm now and as she did, she looked up into his face. “Please, trust me and accept my choice.”

Cole lowered his blade, freeing Solas. As Solas moved away slowly, Cole kept his eyes fixed on Ellana but spoke to Solas under his breath, his tone a deadly promise. “Do not come to her again. She is  _not yours._ ”

Again chills played over Ellana's skin and the hair at her nape danced in anxious foreboding. Suddenly, Cole was all she could see, he replaced his blades in a flash and held her face in both his hands, pressing his lips to hers firmly and whispering again and again his love and regret for causing her pain. Ellana soothed him with words of her own. She assured him of her own feelings, of his place with her, she whispered to him that he was overwhelmed because of the newness of his intense human emotions. But deep within her, somewhere dark and unwelcome, Ellana heard a soft spoken voice trickle words like obsession and possession. She shrugged away the disturbing thoughts in the black as she held her spirit human. When they finally parted to walk back to their shelter to address her wounds, Solas had vanished again without a trace. This time, his disappearance only brought Ellana relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the slower than usual updates. There's some family stuff going down and it's completely getting in the way of my creative flow. Stupid real life...
> 
> Thank you all for being so kind to me, though - all of the kudos and bookmarks and especially your encouraging words mean the world to me. You guys are awesome and I am grateful. <3


	25. Harlequins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana miscalculates. 
> 
> Also, many apologies that this took so long!!! My life right now = word that I can't use here. :)

Wind kissed Ellana's skin and moved a stray curl to tangle with her eyelashes. The puff of air filled her nose with the scent of dirt and a hint of urine as it wafted, crisp and cool, from the back alley to reach them atop the slightly-slanted roof of a small warehouse in the business district of Val Royeaux. Ellana used one small finger to detangle her hair from her lashes and continued to survey the moonlit tiles and blackened crevices of windows and winding alleys below her. They had been in position for hours, since the sun had dimmed to an orange and purple twilight. The riotously bright and shifting light of sunset had offered good cover for Ellana, Cole, Sera and Varric to take up positions on the roofs surrounding the area where Zevran was set to meet her enemy.

Dorian, Bull and his Chargers, Cassandra, Blackwall and even Vivienne were tucked away within strategic buildings, stowed in secret doorways and back alley dead ends, awaiting the signal that would summon them to the fight should Ellana be unable to reason with the mysterious contractor. Ellana hoped her aggressor would see reason as she doubted her friends, and Cole in particular, would be as willing to overlook the attempts on her life.

_Cole_ . He was beside her now, his arm against hers as he lay on his stomach near her, a few strands of his silvery hair peeking out from beneath his hat to shimmer a light gray in the shadow of the wide brim. He turned his attention to her, focusing those large, shining and translucent blue eyes on her when she thought of him. He examined her face for a second before using one pale finger to stroke the skin of her face and then turn his attention back to the roofs in the distance. Cole stiffened and Ellana followed his gaze. Dark forms hunched and slid in the dark on the roofs surrounding the area that would enclose Zevran very shortly. Ellana was surprised that they had waited so close to the meet time to get into position. She supposed not everyone had been forced to learn her lessons in patience and preparation. When the dark movement stilled Ellana waited another twenty minutes or so before giving Cole a nod.

He sprang into action without hesitation. His form blurred and blended, a whisper of shadow and light that flew with preternatural speed and grace from one rooftop to the next. Where he paused, dark and light shadows slumped in silence before the specter of Cole shifted onward. Ellana stopped herself from wondering about whether or not Cole was taking any pleasure in killing the people who had intended to kill her. Since their encounter with Solas, her love of Cole had only increased, but so had something else. Something she couldn't quite pin down, but it was in the vicinity of dread and warning. She shook off the sensation and watched the airy form claim one inky victim after another, each demise a quick execution of clean and completely unexpected precision. Cole's abilities never ceased to amaze her.

His form manifested beside her again and those otherworldly eyes examined her possessively, his hand resting briefly on her head in a show of comfort. Ellana gave him a small smile of warmth and awe. It amazed her that those hands, those long-fingered, pallid instruments of death could both touch her with impossible gentleness and also elicit pleasures she hadn't imagined existed. She flushed at the thought and he smiled and rubbed his thumb across her mouth before they both resumed their examination of the meet sight. It was almost time.

What seemed like only moments later, Cole nodded to Ellana and she backed down the slant of the roof with as much stealth as she could muster. Cole helped her down, clasping her hands securely before her waist was encircled by the giant hands of Bull. He sat her feet on the ground and her hand was immediately grasped by a smaller, but definitely masculine, hand and she found her knuckles caressed by the lingering lips of Zevran, his eyes sparkling at her beneath his hood. All three of them jumped when a small pebble hit Zevran on the head with remarkable accuracy and force. Zevran, Ellana and Bull all looked up to find Cole perched at the edge of the roof staring at Zevran, one blade drawn and his hat moving very slowly and deliberately from right to left as he leveled a glowing glare upon the offending hand that held Ellana's fingers. Zevran released Ellana's hand and held both of his own hands aloft in surrender, shrugging and offering Cole a sheepish grin. Ellana instantly had a vision of Zevran in a sheep pelt, pearly teeth shining in the moonlight. She had to physically cover her mouth in order to stop her own chuckle. Bull just sighed quietly and shook his head.

Ellana swallowed and the moment of levity passed. She nodded to Zevran and proceeded to follow him to the meet. She lingered in the shadows with Bull, very near a corpse slumped in a doorway, the throat nearly severed in full, the blood still fresh and pooling around the darkened shirt collar. She doubted that the poor fool had even made a gurgling sound before he had expired. She wondered which of her people had done the deed and finally settled on Zevran.

Ellana watched as Zevran proceeded to the center of the open square, currently unoccupied. Ellana knew that the assassins on the roofs and some in the occasional winding alley corner had been dispatched by her people. It was time for the ringleader to make themselves known. They would find out now whether or not their stealth had been sufficient not to scare away their prey.

From her seclusion, Ellana watched as a shadow eased into moonlight across the ground, moving at a steady, confident clip. The shadow possessed an axe and held it at the ready. Behind that person four more emerged, three shadowed entities encircling the fourth. Ellana finally had a visual on the person who wanted her dead. She wanted to rush out, to send up a flash of green light to call her companions and subdue everyone at once, but she restrained herself. People always gave away more when they felt they had the upper hand.

Ellana glanced around the rooftops, noting that her people had taken up the positions of the corpses left by Cole, leaving the guard before them none the wiser. So far, so good.

“Ah! There you are, and I see you have brought friends! I like making friends, especially those bringing gold for a job well done.” Zevran's jovial tone carried just the right amount of distrust to be convincing. He really was very good. Ellana wondered for a second if she really could recruit him to the inquisition before regaining her focus.

“Friends. Yes. You and I are friends the way a utensil is friends with the hand that wields it.” The voice was smug, the accent Orlesian and completely unknown to her. Whoever this person was who wished her ill to the point of death, she was unfamiliar with them on a personal level. She was thankful for that, at least. The individual was clearly a nobleman and Ellana found herself hoping that Sera would be able to stay her bow until directed otherwise.

“Well, yes, you may be in the right. However, I am quite a talented utensil, and a hand might often be in need of such a handsome utensil of exceptional skill. Is this not so?” Zevran's voice was winning, betraying no ill will at the jibe and only minimal, scenario-appropriate tension. Ellana decided that she was definitely having a discussion with him about the Inquisition after this little ordeal was complete.

The noble made a sort of snorting sound and his tone was so laced with repugnance it was barely intelligible when combined with his thick accent. “Exceptional skill. Hmm. All you are now is an exceptional liability, knife-ear. I suspect your success in ridding us of that interloper had more to do with luck than skill, either way, the Maker is served. The mere fact that you came here like a sheep to slaughter proves your ineptitude. Just by standing there you beg for death.”

“Unless he didn't come alone.” Ellana stepped from the shadows to meet her assailant, assuming a position beside Zevran, who welcomed her with a slight nod and a devilish grin.

“Beautiful Inquisitress, how it lightens my heart to see you so well and so particularly lovely in the glow of the moonlight. You quite capture my breath.” Zevran's rich voice met her ears like a caress, and Ellana found that even in the midst of a volatile situation such as this, she could still blush.

The eyes behind the mask widened momentarily only to narrow again, and the mouth gaped for a mere second before a smug grin of victory painted the bottom half of the nobleman's face. “I see the false Herald yet lives. No matter. You have merely saved me the pleasure of witnessing your death for myself.” Venom dripped from his every word and then he put his fingers to his mouth and let out an almost deafening whistle in the night air. Three more men ran into the small clearing. It took only seconds for the nobleman to realize that those three were all that remained. His eyes traveled to the rooftops and Sera, Varric and Cole stood and waited for Ellana's order.

Realization of his predicament embedded his words with panic and bile as he practically spit at Ellana beneath his half mask. “You knife-eared viper! Unholy mage! No matter what happens to me, we will not allow you to usurp the power that rightfully belongs to the Divine! Attack! For the glory of the Maker!”

Chaos erupted around Ellana, as every enemy moved toward her at once. Zevran took on the hulking axeman that was nearest her as Ellana released a burst of bright green light into the sky from her hand. An arrow whistled past the head of the nobleman and Ellana screamed into the confusion, “we need him  _alive_ !” He had said “we,” which meant this didn't end with whomever this fanatical fop turned out to be.

Arrows and bolts focused on those enemies furthest from Ellana and her current nemesis. There was very little room between them and when Cole appeared behind the nobleman's rear guard, dispatching him with minimal effort, the nobleman lunged toward Ellana.

Ellana readied a spell, but lost her focus when she noticed a figure clothed in riotous motley and a golden mask appear behind Cole. A harlequin rogue; she had been overconfident and now Cole was in danger. Ellana opened her mouth to scream but was cut off by a blade at her throat.

“Kill the assassins first! I will deal with the interloper!” The voice was shrill, almost maniacal and deafening in her ear as he pressed her to him as a living shield.

Ellana wasn't entirely certain what happened next. She was vaguely aware that other forms in motley attire had appeared in the clearing and that all of her people were there now, engaging them. But her focus was on Cole, on the blades that slashed at him. It crippled her responses, a fear that froze her solid to the ground.

It lasted only a second, but it was an image she would never forget and it seemed to play out in slow motion. Cole dipped, disappeared and reappeared behind the colorfully clad assailant, bringing his blades across and outwards, instantaneously severing the enemy's head from her neck.

“You can't hurt me,” Cole uttered as the blades passed through, eyes the brightness and color of moonlight on snow and glowing eerily. Then he disappeared again, reappearing directly in front of her.

“And you  _won't_ hurt  _her_ .” Cole's tone had turned low and visceral, a violent hiss that terrified her much more than the blade at her own throat ever could. Before he finished speaking, one of his hands yanked the wrist holding the blade on Ellana away, breaking it with a resounding snap, allowing the nobleman's knife to fall to the dirt with a thud. The man didn't have time to scream before Cole's other blade plunged into one of his eyes, passing beside her head with blinding speed. Ellana had no time to think, let alone speak to stop him, her sharp cry of dissent coming much too late.

“No!” Ellana let fly, a futile and hopeless afterthought.

Cole didn't seem the least bit concerned that he had just killed their best and only remaining source of information. The ground was littered with the corpses of her enemies and they knew almost nothing more than they did when this began.

Ellana stared down at the puffed up and still nobleman at her feet in the quiet aftermath of battle, Cole's blade sunken into the eye hole of the mask up to the dual-wield hilt of the dagger. Cole ignored the corpse and the stares of her companions and instead grabbed Ellana's head, his eyes wild as he examined her neck and face and every other inch of her before holding her to him.

“I couldn't let him hurt you,” he mumbled into her hair, clasping her so tightly she had difficulty drawing in air.

“I know,” she whispered back. She couldn't be angry with him for worrying for her. For wanting to protect her.

Gradually, he loosened his grip and she looked around at her people. “Injuries? Is everyone okay?”

“We're good, Boss.” Bull's voice was tight with concern.

“Good? Have you seen what these patchwork barbarians did to my armor?” Dorian's incredulous tone was diffusive, and Ellana loved him for it.

“My dear, just about anything done to that outfit would be an improvement. My shoes however… I believe I stepped in  _excrement_ .” Vivienne's look of absolute horror at the thought was more than Ellana could take and she laughed out loud. Within moments everyone else joined in, more amused by Ellana's response than Vivienne's offended sensibilities.

“Check every body thoroughly, maybe we'll get lucky.” Ellana wiped a stray tear of laughter from the corner of her eye and looked at Cole while the others went about the grisly business of looting corpses for any scrap of information they could find.

Ellana reached up and moved some of the hair from Cole's eyes. “I'm glad you're safe. I didn't plan on harlequins.”

“You were upset with me for killing him.” Cole looked down at his handy work, his expression a bizarre mixture of loathing and regret.

“It's fine. We will just have to find another way of fleshing this “we” business out. I'm glad that you saved me. I was too worried about you to save myself.” Ellana felt foolish. She could have easily sent a jolt into her attacker that would have disarmed and incapacitated him, but she had been too focused on what she thought was Cole's imminent peril. And he had just moved  _so fast_ . She had never seen anyone or anything move so fast. All because he wanted to protect her.

Ellana's face turned serious suddenly and she reached both tiny hands up to pull Cole's face down to hers and she gave him a full, lingering kiss right there in front of all her people. Cole responded by drawing her closer, so focused on Ellana it was is if only she existed in the universe. When people began to shuffle and cough around them, she finally loosed him, her lids half closed as she smiled at him feeling enormously thankful, when she knew she should feel concern. She didn't care. He was safe. She was safe. She loved him and she didn't care if all of Thedas knew it.

“Now, that is a fortunate assassin.” Zevran mumbled from somewhere nearby and Ellana blushed and smiled at him.

“Zevran, I'd like to speak with you after we clean up here, if you wouldn't mind.” Ellana was determined to engage him. Although, she was fairly certain that she was going to have to have a long discussion with Cole about it. He was already frowning, scouring her thoughts.

“It would be my distinct pleasure.” Zevran's grin increased proportionally with Cole's frown.

“If you two are done with the show, I think I might have something here.” Varric gave Cole and Ellana an encouraging grin and handed her a small, creased note. She read it aloud. “For the glory of the Maker's one true voice, you must not fail. B.”

Ellana looked around, everyone shrugging in unison. “Well,” Ellana spoke to herself, “it's somewhere to start.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so, harlequins were a pain in the butt. And their clothes are awesome. So there's that. Also, this is the penultimate chapter in this work, but I'll give more info about my ideas moving forward when I post the next one, which I hope will only be a few days from now. I've got several major life-changing situations going on right now, but I WILL finish this work now. Then I'll get things under control before I start the next work in the series. Thank you all for your kindness and your patience and I hope that I don't disappoint you.
> 
> Me and my plans...


End file.
